Since That Night
by mabelle1
Summary: You can only compartmentalize so much...... Post-Telling.....Angst/Action/Mystery/Romance.....Posting and continuing here until CM active again.....R for sections in Chs. 5 & 8
1. Two Years

Since That Night

Author: mabelle  
Feedback:  Sure.  Constructive criticism is always welcome.  I have a thick skin.  Like it or not, ca m'est egal.  
Distribution: Here, SD-1 and CM.  Anywhere else you want as long as you ask.   
Disclaimer: I understand that Alias is the property of JJ Abrams and ABC.  I have **no** aspirations as a writer and will never profit from it.  I do it purely as a form of self-entertainment and speculation therapy. Blame JJ and his schizophrenic writing staff (at least since Phase One).  If they didn't keep blowing up the show's premise every couple of months, I wouldn't have to do this.  
Summary:  You can only compartmentalize so much…  
Rating: PG-13 to NC-17   
Spoilers: The Telling, of course

Classification: Angst, with a bit of Action and Romance thrown in for good measure.

A/N:  A note on the timing of this tale.  I don't know if you've noticed, but the passage of time in Alias-land has been pretty damn vague this past season (intentional?).  No holidays have been noted.  The only solid timeline given was in Salvation, wherein they noted that it had only been six weeks (and, coincidentally, six episodes) since ATY and the Big Red Ball of Doom.  So, for the purposes of this fic, I have decided to peg everything to ATY with one week per episode through season 2.  Then, there's everybody's favorite two-year leap.  You'd be amazed at how well it works out.  (I spend way too much time thinking about this stuff….)  

  
  


Part 1  - Two Years

"Since that night, you were missing", he paused trying to keep his emotions in check, but failing.  "You've been missing for almost two years."

Sydney felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her.  When she was finally able to catch her breath, she whispered, "No, that's not possible…"  She saw Vaughn looking at her, his tortured expression, a mixture of anguish, concern, and, could that be, suspicion?

"Vaughn, the last thing I remember was shooting Francie's double! Then, I woke up here in an alley yesterday.  What's the date?!"

"October 3, 2004", he murmured, still unable to tear his gaze from her.  She looked and felt like Sydney, but this was just not possible - not after everything that had happened.  And what was with the amnesia?  Two years!  It was too convenient.

She stared at him incredulously and then lifted her shirt and stared at the scar on her stomach once again.  She remembered a bullet grazing her there during her struggle with the double, but it had completely healed and the scar was no longer even pink, but a white streak.  How was this possible?

"What is that?"

"I think I got it when I was fighting with the double, but I thought that that was yesterday!" she cried, starting to break down.  "What's going on?"

Vaughn's suspicions started to melt away when he saw that scar.  Although they had found half of her jacket and one of her shoes, nowhere had they reported the additional tear in the blood-soaked garment that would have lined up perfectly with that scar.  He had spent weeks poring over the pictures of her apartment from that night and all of the evidence they had found from the struggle there and the traces of her that were at the Pallisades.  Still, he couldn't take any chances.

"Sydney, I need to ask you some questions.  They won't let me bring you in until I get some answers."

"But Vaughn, I just told you I don't remember anything!  As for questions, I've got a few of my own…", she yelled at him while rising and gesturing to his left hand.  She started pacing the room like an animal at the zoo.

Vaughn remained seated and held his head in his hands.  "Syd", he pleaded, "a lot of things have changed since you've been gone.  I want to give you answers to everything, but a lot of it is Omega-17.  I'll be able to tell you a little more once you've answered a few personal questions about your life _before_ that night."

Sydney suddenly stopped pacing.  It finally struck her what he was getting at.  "Oh my God, you think _I'm_ a double…, but we destroyed Markovich's device!"

Vaughn met her gaze.  "You've been gone for almost two years", he said slowly and deliberately, "the CIA knows that Sloane has been trying to rebuild the device.  Even if he hasn't succeeded yet, it's been more than enough time for a surgical double.  I'm not saying that I believe that's the case, but the CIA has to be careful."  He paused before continuing, " Will you answer the questions?"

"Fine", Sydney tossed out curtly, "Fire away!"  Vaughn nodded and pulled out his cell phone.  Sydney regarded him curiously.  After he dialed the phone and gave his number and password, she could tell that he had been connected with Kendall.  The conversation started calmly, but quickly became strained.

"I've arrived and confirm delivery of the package.  I need a set of the questions."

"Yes, I _KNOW_ that, but that would be _WHY_ I need a set of the questions…."

"Listen you son-of-a-bitch, I don't work for you anymore!  I let you pull me back into this nightmare on the off-chance that this _might_ be for real and, now that I'm letting you know it _might _be, you're hesitating to give me information that would prove it one way or the other!  Now, give me the God-damned questions or I'm out of here and I'll tell _her_ to leave _too_!!"

Sydney gaped at the one-sided exchange she was witnessing.  Vaughn had obviously left the CIA, or at least the Joint Task Force.  Now, she understood what he had meant when he said that they had called him back.  She couldn't even imagine what could have occurred between the two men to cause this level of animosity.  She knew Kendall was a jerk, but she had never seen Vaughn act this way.  Vaughn saw her horrified expression after his last remark and quickly softened his demeanor and shook his head slightly to assure her that he was not about to abandon her.  

Apparently, Kendall was giving him whatever these questions were because Vaughn calmed down even further and started nodding his head.

"Okay, now what are the answers…"

"You're kidding.  You can't _possibly_ be serious.  You have us on _video surveillance_!  Fine!"

Sydney whipped her head around, searching for where the camera might be.  She couldn't believe that they had been watching her since yesterday!  Vaughn noticed what she was doing and nodded at the cheap tapestry that was hanging on the wall behind her.  She immediately turned scowling and gave it the finger.  

Despite his agitated state, Vaughn couldn't help but laugh.  He quickly composed himself and motioned for Sydney to sit down.  He held the cell phone between them.   In a cynical tone, he stated, "Sydney, apparently Director Kendall is afraid that I might somehow _give_ you the answers.  So, he would like to hear them for _himself _."  They could both hear Kendall let go a string of invectives, indicating his displeasure at Vaughn's comment not to mention Sydney's previous gesture.  Vaughn simply rolled his eyes, shook his head, and waited for him to shut up.  Now, despite the situation, even Sydney was smiling slightly.  Vaughn finally interrupted Kendall's tirade, "Can we get started now?"

"Why not?  You've already clearly made up your mind on the subject..", they heard Kendall bite through the phone.

Vaughn took a deep breath, stared at Sydney, and started, "Sydney, when you were young, a few weeks after your mother left, you and your father found something that she had left behind for you.  Could you explain what that was?"

Sydney thought for a moment, smiled sadly, and began, "As you know, my mother 'died' right before the Holidays.  I had been begging her for a pet, a cat to be exact.  My Mom said we couldn't have one because she was allergic, but I didn't want a dog because my parents said that I would have to walk it or clean up the yard after it.  After she was gone, my Dad and I found some wrapped Christmas presents hidden in the garage.  Among them was a big stuffed cat.  I slept with that cat for years", she said softly as tears glazed her eyes.

Vaughn brought the phone to his ear and asked, "Can I continue with the next question?"  However, his expression immediately soured and he turned to Sydney apologetically, "Kendall would like to know if it had a name?"

Sydney shook her head in disbelief.   She grabbed the phone from Vaughn's hand and hissed into it, "_His_ name was Mr. Whiskers.  Would you also like to know what color he was and if he had any special markings?"

"No, that won't be necessary…"

She handed the phone back to a smirking Vaughn who again inquired if he should continue.  He then asked Sydney the next question.  "When you were on one of your last missions with Dixon for SD-6 in Rabat, he told you that you had a "thing" that you always did.  What was it?"

Sydney smiled slightly and tucked her hair behind her left ear.  Vaughn gazed at her, remembering how she always did do that, and smiled in return.  Then, they simply stared at each other for a few moments until Kendall interrupted the silence, "Are you having a problem with the question Ms. Bristow?"  "Sorry, _Director_ Kendall, as you have video on us, I was simply showing you", she responded, "But since you _obviously_ weren't paying attention, I'll tell you.  I have a tendency to keep tucking my hair behind my ears."

"May I ask the _last_ question, Kendall?", Vaughn queried.

"You mean the last question for now…", Kendall corrected.

"_Whatever_, may I?", retorted the beleaguered former agent.

"Go ahead…"

"Syd, when you and Will Tippin were at the movies once, you were asked to leave the theater.  What was the movie and why were you asked to leave?"

Sydney appeared confused for a moment and then she had a flash of recollection and had to suppress a laugh.  Vaughn gave her a quizzical look and she nodded that she was ready to answer.  "When we went to see the 'Lord of the Rings'", she began, "we got to the theater a little bit late.  There weren't many seats left that weren't right up front.  However, we found some in the middle of the theater and had to work our way in to them.  Once we were seated, we realized that we were near a very loud man and his wife.   He kept commenting and making snide remarks during the movie.  He was driving us _crazy_, but there was really _nowhere_ we could move without disturbing a bunch of other people.  We asked him politely to keep it down, but he brushed us off."  She paused for a moment before continuing, " Later on, he fell asleep and started snoring with his mouth wide open.  His wife got up to use the restroom a little after that."  Sydney started laughing, " As soon as she left, Will took a piece of popcorn and tried to shoot it in his mouth.  Then, he asked me to give it a try….  The people around us were cheering us on."  Now, there were tears rolling down her cheeks as she tried to continue without cracking up, " By the time his wife got back, his mouth was full of popcorn.  She caught us in the act, reported us to the manager, and we were escorted out.  However, we _were_ given a round of applause by the fellow movie goers around us as we left."   

She looked up at Vaughn when she finished, wearing a broad grin.  He returned it with a sad smile and added, "God Bless Will Tippin…".  After that, he pulled the cell up to his ear and asked Kendall, "Has she answered everything to you satisfaction?"  

Sydney stared at him, confused, and interrupted, "Don't you get a question?"  He asked Kendall to hold on for a second and asked her to repeat what she had said.  "Why don't you get a question?" she repeated.  "It seems that all the important men in my life got a question, except for you.  Why is that?"  

Vaughn wore an uncomfortable expression and momentarily shifted his gaze downward, but before he could say anything, they both heard Kendall yell through the phone, "Do _not _answer that Mr. Vaughn!  She is cleared to the next level, but _only_ that.  No Omega-17 information until she's back stateside and has passed physical exams!  Bring her back home!"  After that, they could hear Kendall hang up.

An awkward silence ensued between the two of them.  Vaughn broke it when he looked up and asked her softly, "What's the best dinner you ever made me that I never ate?"  Sydney was still confused by Kendall's response to her question, but answered quietly, "Chicken Cacciatore".  

They never did eat that first meal that she had made him.  Will and Francie, _no_ – Francie's _double_, had come back from the movies around 11:30, found the food on the stove, and assumed that they were leftovers which were up for grabs.  "You know, given all the surveillance in the apartment and the fact that _she_ ate half of it, they probably know what I made that night."  Vaughn shrugged, "Given all the things Sloane knows about the two of us, I doubt he bothered to keep that one on the list."

Sydney was just about to ask what he had meant by his last comment when Vaughn's cell started ringing.  Vaughn answered to find that it was Kendall again, yelling.  Vaughn's look of complete exasperation was followed by one of incredulity.  "You have audio on us too!!  Listen, _you jackass, you_ pulled me back in!  Let me bring her in _my_ way.  Despite what _you_ may think, I have no intention of divulging anything Omega-17.  _You're_ the one raising all the red flags, _not_ me.  I'll talk to you when we get to the safe house stateside.  Until then, I'm going to handle things _my way_."  With that, he hung up the phone and handed it to Sydney.  While staring at the tapestry, he bit out, "If he calls again, you get to talk to him".

As Sydney put the cell on the side table, she breathed, "Vaughn, what the hell is going on?"

"I'll tell you what I can, but _not_ _here_.  We have to get going.  _You _may not remember the last two years, but I doubt that's the case for whomever's responsible".


	2. Eighteen Hours

Part 2   -  Eighteen Hours 

Vaughn left the room for a few minutes and, when he returned, he had an armful of clothes, a couple of wigs, and a make-up case which he placed on the bed.  In a professional tone, he stated, "Sorry that there's not a better selection, but this is all San has on hand and we really need to get going.  I'll be right down the hall getting ready.  I'll be back in a half an hour.  Do you think you have everything you need?"

"Yeah, but Vaughn…", she hesitated before continuing, "can't I go with you?"

Vaughn hesitated, having been caught off-guard by her request, "I… I don't think that's a good idea".  His awkward demeanor told Sydney that he had misinterpreted her concern, although she did feel the need to be near him.

"You're going to leave me in here with them?" she whispered, shrugging toward the tapestry.

Vaughn blushed at his error.  "God Syd, I'm sorry.  I don't know what I was thinking", he fumbled over his words as he walked toward the wall and ripped down the fabric.  Just as he picked up an ashtray and was about to smash the lens of the small camera, the cell phone rang once again.  Vaughn simply looked at the camera and said, "Have it your way, it's either this or she comes with me right now."  The phone immediately stopped ringing.

After smashing in the camera, Vaughn stuffed a scarf in the hole he had created, just to make sure she had privacy.  Then, he turned to her and whispered, "See you in half an hour" and left the room.

Sydney took a deep breath and headed over to the bed.  She shook her head in dismay over the wardrobe selection.  She realized that it really shouldn't have surprised her though.  After all, the district of Tsim Shat Sui in Kowloon wasn't only known for its shopping, it was also the red light district of Hong Kong.  She had stuck out like a sore thumb when she had come in wearing those jeans and that sweater last night.  Foraging through the pile, she settled on a shoulder-length platinum blonde wig, a black leather mini slit up both sides, fishnet stockings, thigh-high boots and a pink off-the-shoulder top that left little to the imagination.  She wasn't thrilled with the outfit, but at least she'd blend in.

A half an hour later, she was just putting the finishing touches on her make up when she heard a knock on the door.  "May I come in", Vaughn inquired.  "Of course, I'm all set" was her reply.

She barely recognized Vaughn when he came in.  He had put blonde highlights in his hair and spiked it all up.  He was wearing tight black jeans and a long-sleeved black T-shirt.  He was carrying a short black leather jacket which had some silver chains on it.  Conspicuous by its absence was the gold band he had been wearing earlier.  She couldn't fault him – Dixon had often removed his ring when on a mission.  Anyway, given the way she was dressed, having a married pimp would seem odd.  As a final touch, he had put in blue contacts and was wearing small rectangular eyeglasses.  She found it hard to suppress a laugh.

"People in glass minis…" was all he said when he saw the look on her face, although he did give her outfit an appreciative glance.  Snapping back to business mode, he continued, "Anyway, you should really change your eye color.  Just to be safe."

Sydney nodded in agreement and selected a blue/violet set of contacts out the makeup case.   As she placed them in her eyes, there was a knock on the door.  It was San, the manager of the safe house.  "I just wanted to let you know that your car is here.  It's the same one that brought you from the airport."  Vaughn gave an appreciative nod and turned to Sydney, "Time to go".

When they got downstairs, Sydney was heading to the front door when Vaughn stopped her.  "We should go out the back door and then down the alley just in case anyone tracked you here."  Of course, he was right.  Maybe it really had been two years.  She was losing her touch.

Walking down the alley toward the street, they passed a local parking his motorcycle.  When they neared the entrance to the alley, Vaughn held her back by the elbow.  "Wait a minute.  There's our car, the taxi, but the driver is talking to someone.  Let's wait until they finish up."  They ducked back slightly.

The man who was talking to the driver had leaned down and seemed to be showing him something.  It looked like a photo.  The man was older, Caucasian and seemed to be dressed like a missionary or priest.  The driver shook his head and shrugged.  Another much taller and younger man joined him and they both faced toward the alley.  Vaughn heard Sydney's breath catch in her throat and asked, "What is it?"

"I know them.  I don't know how, but they seem very familiar…"

"Well, we're not taking any chances", Vaughn replied, pulling her back down the alley.  He paused by the motorcycle.  "Are you up for a little ride?"

After he had finished hot wiring the bike, he rummaged through the storage compartment and pulled out the helmet, handing it to her.  "Here put this on and, while you're at it, put this on too…", he said while shrugging off the leather jacket.

"Vaughn...", Sydney interjected, "Pimps aren't exactly known for being chivalrous…".  

"Just do it !" , he barked at her, catching her off-guard, and then he climbed on the bike.

"Alright, alright…", she conceded, straddling the bike behind him after donning the helmet and jacket.

After she had climbed on and had grabbed him by the waist, he seemed to stiffen and hesitate.  "Vaughn??" she queried.  With that, he broke out of his reverie and started the bike. 

They proceeded to the head of the alley only to find that the two men who had been talking to the cab driver were now obstructing it – deep in conversation.  Vaughn leaned on the horn in an attempt to get them to move, which they did.  Then, as he paused momentarily for a break in the street traffic, the younger man turned toward Sydney and uttered a disbelieving, "Suzanne??"  Sydney gave the man a startled look, but before he or his companion could come any closer, Vaughn gunned the motorcycle into traffic.  Sydney looked back to see the two men scurrying towards a car.

"Are they following us?" cried Vaughn.

"They're in their car, but not in traffic yet."

"Hang on!" he yelled as he revved the bike and started weaving in and out of the heavy traffic.  Before long, the car and its occupants were well out of sight.  

As they drove out of Kowloon, across the Tsing Ma Bridge, and onto the Lantau Link, Vaughn started to relax slightly, still marveling at the unreality of the situation.  The day before yesterday, he believed that she was dead and he was getting on with his life as best he could.  Now, two days later, here she was, the warm length of her leaning into him, with her arms wrapped around his waist.  The night was mild, there was a full harvest moon, and the wind felt good through his hair.  The beautiful Hong Kong skyline was lit up across the water.  Granted, this could all still be an elaborate set up, but for the moment he had decided to enjoy the ride.

Within the hour, they had reached the airport, hidden the motorcycle, and were settling themselves in the cabin of a private jet.  The co-pilot came into the cabin carrying a large duffel and handed it to Vaughn.  "We were beginning to worry about you.  Your ride called and said you were a no show.  We'll be taking off in about 10 minutes.  Here's everything she'll need when we arrive – clothes, passport, etc.,..  You might as well settle in.  Including the layover on Midway, it'll be 18 hours before we reach the Seattle area."

"I remember…", said Vaughn rolling his eyes.

"Sorry, the other crew said one of the passengers had just come over a few hours ago.  You must be him."

"Yeah, lucky me…"

"Well, the galley's fully stocked and, if you didn't already know it, that isn't a closet.  There is actually a shower back there, though I won't claim it's much good.  Water pressure stinks and, be warned, there's only a 15-minute supply of lukewarm water.  Any port in a storm though, eh?"

"Thanks.  We'll let you know if we need anything."

The co-pilot headed back to the cockpit.

Sydney looked over to Vaughn, "Seattle?"  

"Yeah", Vaughn replied, "They want to keep a low profile on this so you're going in through a CIA-enclave in the San Juan Islands".

"Why not Bainbridge?"

"We don't have that one anymore".

"Oh", she paused before continuing, "Will my Dad be there?"

"No, I doubt that they've been able to reach him", said Vaughn averting his gaze.

"What does that mean?"

"Listen, after takeoff, why don't you get changed into some more comfortable clothes before we start talking.  There's a small bedroom at the back.  I'm not trying to be evasive, but explaining things is going to take a while.  Besides, I can't imagine that you want to be wearing that for the duration."  Not to mention the fact that he did not need to see her wearing it.  She nodded in agreement and he handed her the duffel.  

After takeoff, Sydney headed back to the bedroom with the duffel.  It was just big enough to fit a full-size bed.  At the foot of the bed, there was a set of built-in shelves.  There were also three pieces of carry-on luggage crammed into them. "This must be where the crew changes too", she thought to herself.  She knew that one of the bags must belong to Vaughn.  She also knew she shouldn't, but she had the overwhelming temptation to go through it.  Their exchanges at the safe house had been stilted, especially with Kendall interrupting every 30 seconds.  Maybe she could find out some answers here.  After all, it wasn't like he was her boyfriend anymore, as that ring back at the safe house had clearly indicated.

She looked for luggage tags, trying to determine which bag was Vaughn's.  Of course, there were none, seeing as they all worked for the CIA.  She quickly checked each of the bags without disturbing their contents.  Save for a couple of books and magazines, she found nothing of interest except for a prescription bottle.  It was for one Evan Markham - Dilantin with Phenobarbitol, 2 capsules, 2 times daily.  It had a slew of those little warning labels on it.  She was none too happy to think that either the pilot or co-pilot was taking the stuff, until a realization hit her.  These could be for her.  Although she had no idea what Dilantin did, she was well acquainted with the uses of phenobarbitol in extracting information.  If Vaughn had doubted her identity, would he have used it on her?  Could he still?  Not that she had anything to hide, but the discovery disturbed her.

She realized that she had been gone quite some time.  So, she quickly returned the bottle to its location and replaced the bag on the shelves.  Then, she rummaged through the duffel Vaughn had given her, pulling out an acceptable outfit, and quickly changed.  After a quick trip to the bathroom to scrub off the pound of makeup she was wearing, she was ready to return to her seat.

When she finally returned, she plopped down across the aisle from Vaughn only to see that he had fallen asleep.  She took the opportunity to look at him closely.  She hadn't noticed it before, but now she could see that he'd lost some weight, about 10 pounds.  He had always been slender, but was now even more so.  In addition, despite his relaxed state, she could see a few more lines in his brow and around his eyes.  Finally, she noticed he was wearing a gold chain around his neck.  At first, she thought it was part of his disguise, but it was out of place.  It was actually quite tasteful.  She found it odd though, as Vaughn had never been the type to wear one.  She also noticed that it actually had some sort of charm or tag.  She was just leaning in for a closer look when he woke with a start.

"Jesus, Syd!  What are you doing?!"

"Sorry, Vaughn, I didn't mean to startle you, but you fell asleep.  I was just about to wake you when you woke yourself."

She didn't feel badly about the little white lie.  She had originally intended to wake him.  She had a lot of questions that she needed answers to and she had been more than patient.

"Don't worry about it.  I'm sorry I snapped at you.  This is all still a little surreal to me."

"You and me both"

Vaughn nodded.  "Okay then, let me splash a little water on my face and we'll get started…"

When he returned, he had removed the tinted contacts and lost the glasses.  That's when he took a good look at her in the outfit she was now wearing.  She too had removed her contacts and scrubbed all the makeup from her face.  The wig and the hideous, yet incredibly sexy, outfit were gone, replaced by a pair of khakis and a tasteful black twin set.  She now looked like the Sydney he remembered and loved, his Sydney.  He realized that he had been staring too long when she began to squirm under his scrutiny.

"We should get started", he mumbled as he averted his eyes.  "Where would you like me to begin?"

"Let's start from the beginning.  Most importantly, tell me _why_ everyone thinks I'm dead."

Vaughn took a deep breath and nodded.  "Okay, I'll start from that night…"

"After I left your place, I headed straight to the Ops Center.  Kendall, your father, and I had just started to review what happened in Mexico City when Weiss came in and interrupted us.  He said that there had been a local police call to a CIA agent's address because shots had been fired.  Then, he looked to your dad and I and said it was your apartment.  I don't think I've ever run so fast in my life. "

"Your father and I jumped in his car and I immediately started calling the apartment and your cell. I got no answer.  When we finally got to your place, there were police cars everywhere and they were loading Will into an ambulance.  We flashed our ID's and they told us he had been stabbed and was critical.  I asked about women and they said there was only one and she was DOA."

"We ran into the apartment.  God, it was a war zone.  We ran back toward your bedroom because that's where they said the DOA was.  We were both relieved and horrified when we saw that it was Francie instead of you.  There was blood everywhere.  Then, I saw your gun on the floor next to the shattered mirror and knew for sure you were there when whatever happened went down."  He paused before continuing, "There was blood all over that mirror."

"We identified ourselves to the lead investigator and talked to the CSI's, letting them know that there was someone else missing.  Their first impression was that it had been a home invasion by some gang.  Our first thought was that Sloane had abducted you and that Francie and Will simply got in the way.   Your father assumed control of the scene and called a CIA team in."

"While your dad kept talking to the investigators and called for a CIA team to come in, I checked the rest of the apartment and outside to see if they'd left any clues as to how they got you out of there without your neighbors noticing.  That's when I noticed that your truck was gone.  We immediately put out an APB on it and you.  Your father also put alerts out at the airports and notified the Coast Guard."

"When the CIA team arrived, we returned to the Ops Center and everybody started working every contact they had.  I'd never felt so helpless in my life, but we got lucky recovering your Dad so I had hope."  

"I immediately went to visit Sark to try and get information out of him on any locations where Sloane might have gone.  I told him that you had been abducted, Will stabbed, and your other roommate killed so that I was in no mood for any of his games.  It was _strange_.  He actually freaked out and swore that he knew nothing about it.  He also swore he had no idea where Sloane could be.  Needless to say, I didn't believe him and, before I knew it, the guards were pulling me off of him.  He was in medical services for a week."

"Our first break came the next day when the police contacted us to let us know they had found your car.  It was up at the Pallisades, where you used to go sometimes when you needed to think.  Your father and I got a team up there immediately.  We searched both your car and the area.  The driver's seat was covered with blood, especially the back.  Then, we sent some guys repelling over the cliffs to see what they could find."

Vaughn had been staring off over Sydney's left shoulder while talking, with his voice becoming increasingly choked off by emotion.  He had to pause for a few moments before continuing, "When they came back up, they had found your keys, one of your shoes, and part of the jacket you'd been wearing on a ledge covered with blood."  At this point, he had to stop and held his head in his hands.  When he finally continued his voice was almost a whisper, "We sent another, larger team down, but high tide had been earlier that morning and nothing else was found".

"You and my father thought I'd killed myself?"

"We didn't know what to think!  The evidence was pointing in a million different directions at once.  It wasn't until Will woke up later that day that we realized that Francie was the double.  We ran tests to confirm it.  Then, all the blood tests from your apartment, car, and jacket came back.  Your blood was everywhere, particularly on the mirror, in the car, and on the jacket.  Then, we talked to Dr. Barnett and asked her what she thought.  She told us that we had to consider the possibility that this had been the event to finally break you.  With everything that had happened to you over the previous couple of years, we had to consider that it had all been too much, especially when considering the location.  You once told me that the only person that you ever told you liked to go up to the Pallisades was me…"

Vaughn paused and looked up at Sydney.  She could see the tears in his eyes and the pain in his voice. She couldn't even imagine what they must have been going through at that point.  After a few moments, Vaughn managed to compose himself and continued.

"Even then, your father and I refused to believe it entirely.  We checked every hospital in Southern California, every Jane Doe across the nation, dead or alive, for months.  We realized that the scene at the Pallisades could have been staged, that perhaps you might have mentioned going up there to the double over the months that the she was living with you, and that maybe Sloane had abducted you.  As crazy as it sounds, that became our best hope for your being alive!"

"Unfortunately, the rest of the CIA didn't share our hopes.  Kendall and Devlin posted you as missing and presumed dead.  They and the other brass humored us in terms of allowing us to check out Jane Does and the like, but unless we were trying to track down Sloane or your mother, they refused to give us any additional resources.  They told us to focus our energies on finding the people responsible for driving you off that cliff." 

"So when was it that _you_ finally gave up on me?"  Sydney's voice was barely audible and tears were glistening in her eyes.

Vaughn reached over and briefly cupped her cheek with his hand.  She could still see the tears shining in his eyes.  He took a deep breath and stated, "When we realized that Sloane was looking for you as hard as we were…"

"What?"

"After Mexico City, Sloane laid low for several months.  He wasn't sighted anywhere.  It was like he too had disappeared off the face of the planet.  At the same time, your mother had been in contact with us, with your father to be exact.  She was no longer with Sloane.  She claimed that, although she knew that the double was in LA and was manipulating Will, she had no part in what happened to you or Will.  She knew that the double was getting nervous about being exposed, but had thought that she would simply flee, not do anything to harm you.  She felt that Doren must have been acting on new orders from Sloane, but had no idea who could have helped them as they were no longer working with either her or Sark.  She told us that she would work her contacts and send us any intel she could get on Sloane."

"After several months, Sloane resurfaced.  He was building a new organization.  Your mother sent us intel occasionally that helped us track his activities, but we were always a few steps behind.  Finally, about ten months ago, we got a break on a current location for him.  Unfortunately, the team infiltrating the facility was discovered and Sloane used the opportunity to abduct one of the operatives on the mission.  Among other things, he wanted information on you.  He tried to get information from the operative directly, but when he didn't like what he heard, that you were presumed dead, he decided to use him as a bargaining chip with the CIA.  Sloane believed that the _CIA _had staged your suicide at the Pallisades and wanted confirmation that you were still alive - confirmation that the CIA couldn't provide and wouldn't even if they could.  He'd been unable to find you too."

"What happened to the operative?"  Vaughn could tell by the concern in Sydney's voice that she was already feeling guilty about yet another person being killed because of Sloane's obsession with her.

"After eight weeks, your mother was able to give the CIA a location on him and he was extracted."

"He was alive?"

"Yeah.  He was pretty messed up, but he recovered."

Sydney paused, pondering everything Vaughn had told her.  "So that's when you and my dad decided to accept that I was dead?"

Vaughn nodded solemnly, "our last shred of hope was gone".

"Vaughn, where's my dad?"

"He left the CIA a few months after that.  He decided that the CIA wasn't up to the task of finding and eliminating Arvin Sloane.  He was tired of playing by any of their rules.  It became about revenge.  So, he went off to try and join forces with your mother and hunt down Sloane."

"When was the last time anybody heard from him?"

"Weiss radioed me on the way over that he had been contacted by your dad about three months ago.  He was trying to find me, but Weiss told him I was in witness protection and he had no way of finding or contacting me.  That's the last that they've heard from him."

"You're in witness protection?"

"Yeah.  I left the CIA around the same time that your Dad did.  They decided that, given the players involved, just leaving the CIA wasn't enough."

"Why did you leave??"

"Syd, it's really complicated", Vaughn paused and took a deep breath before continuing, "After I finally acknowledged that you had probably died that night on the cliffs, something inside me broke.  I felt so lost. I didn't know what to do.  I had lost faith in the CIA too.  After all, I had lost both my dad and you and the CIA seemed unable to bring either of the people responsible for your deaths to justice.  Later, when your father decided to leave, I felt even more alienated.  However, I knew that, if Sloane could be gotten, your father would likely be the one to do it.  I actually was considering joining him, but the thought of working with my father's killer, on her terms, disturbed me.  Then, fate intervened."

Sydney was just about to ask what he meant by that when the co-pilot came back and told Vaughn that he was wanted on the radio.  It was Kendall no doubt.  Vaughn gave her an apologetic look and promised to continue as soon as he returned.  He told her she should get something to eat and rest, nodding toward the small bedroom at the rear of the plane.

She was actually starving.  She had eaten some at the safe house, but it was pretty nasty stuff.  San ran efficient operation, but he was a lousy cook.  She rummaged around the galley and found fresh fruit, some croissants, and some cheese.  She also found a pretty good selection of juices, coffee, and teas.  Apparently, the CIA was doing a better job catering flights these days.  

As she sat wolfing down her second croissant, Vaughn returned.  He laughed at her chipmunk cheeks and fell into the chair across from her.

"It was Kendall, he said running his hands through his hair.  "He wanted to know why we missed our contact in Tsim Shat Sui in Kowloon.  I told him about the men and the name that the one guy called you.  He's dispatching a team to the area to see if they can pick anything up on them.  Have you been able to remember anything else about them?

"No, nothing", she replied shaking her head.  "I've been sitting here trying to remember anything.  How can two years have gone by without me remembering?  Where the hell was I?"

"Good question.  I don't know if I should even tell you this, but I also talked with Barnett.  She has a theory on what may have happened to you."

"A couple of days ago", she corrected herself shaking her head slowly, "_years _ago, I probably would have been upset with you, but now I'm willing to listen to anyone, even her.  What did she have to say?"

"She said that you may have experienced something called a dissociative fugue.  It's when someone experiencing extreme stress adopts a new identity and forgets about their previous identity. The person actually flees their location.  Some have been known to travel thousands of miles.  They are able to perform well enough to survive under their new identities. These "fugues" usually only last for a few days, but some have lasted for months. If it's what's happened to you, however, you may have set a new record.  When theses "fugues" end, the person is usually unable to recall what occurred during their time away."

"It sounds almost a little too perfect.  Why didn't she say anything about it before?"

"I asked her the same question.  She said it never occurred to her before for several reasons.  First, they're incredibly rare.  They mostly happen in wartime.  Second, given the extent of your suspected injuries, it didn't make sense that you could get very far without medical care.  In which case, your father and I would have picked you up in our search of the hospitals.  How you could have gotten across international borders is a complete mystery.  Finally, she admitted that the evidence at the Pallisades and her previous knowledge of all that you had been through had predisposed her to thinking that the pain had become too much for you to bear…"

"So she's saying that I'll never know what happened to me?!"

"No, she's not saying that", Vaughn paused.  "Judy believes that, if this is what happened to you and you undergo hypnosis and regression therapy, there's a reasonable chance that some of those two years can be recovered."

"Judy, huh?  When did the two of you become such close friends?!"

Vaughn looked down, choosing his next words carefully.  "You need to give her a chance to help you, Sydney.  She helped a lot of us after that night – Will, me, Dixon, and even your Dad to some extent.  She also helped me come to terms with things later on when I had problems coping.  She helped me get on with my life."

"And I'm supposed to thank her for that?" said Sydney remembering the wedding band that Vaughn had yet to replace on his finger.

Vaughn shook his head.  "You don't understand.  You have no idea the place I'd gotten myself into.,,  I know that this is all the day before yesterday to you, but let me assure you that those of us you left behind are more than aware of each day that has passed since that night.  We may have accepted your death, but I know that you wouldn't have wanted us to keep on mourning you.  You would have wanted us to be able to get on with our lives.  Judy Barnett helped us do that and, believe me, it was no insignificant feat for any of us."

She knew he was right.  She was still having more than a little trouble accepting what had happened, but she shouldn't minimize what any of them had gone through.  "I'm sorry Vaughn.  I just want to wake up and have this all be some sort of bad dream".

"I know.  Believe me, I know…  But tomorrow, when you wake up and find out that this is still for real, please give her a chance to help you and us find out what happened to you, okay?'"

Sydney nodded her assent.

"Not to get off the subject, Vaughn, but something you said earlier has been bothering me."

"What?"

"You said that both the back of my jacket and the back of the driver's seat of my car were covered with my blood.  The only significant scar that I've been able to find is on my stomach.  I didn't think to look for anything on my back at the safe house.  I tried to feel around and check my back out in that little circle they call a bathroom mirror, but I can't see anything.  Doesn't that prove that my presence at the Pallisades was probably some kind of set up"

Vaughn thought about this for a moment.  She had a point.  There was one way to find out, but he didn't think that that was such a good idea.  "When we get back, the doctors can check you out thoroughly."

"It'll probably be at least another day before that can be done.  Please Vaughn, I need to know.  I know this is awkward, but could you please take a look?"

Vaughn paused and took a deep breath.  "Okay, why don't you turn around and I'll take a look while you hold up the back of your sweater."

Sydney turned around and slowly lifted the back of her sweater.  Vaughn swallowed hard and took a look.  Three hairline scars, four to five inches long each crisscrossed the middle of her back.  Vaughn stared at them silently, replaying in his mind how hard she must have hit the mirror for the glass to slit through both her jacket and sweater before making those cuts.  He thanked God that they hadn't slit into her spine.   

"There are three scars", he whispered.  Then, without thinking, he slowly lifted his left hand and traced the scars.  As he did, he felt the last few doubts he had melt away.  When he was done, he removed his hand and Sydney turned to find tears streaming down his face.  His voice was strained with emotion as he looked down, "Whoever stitched them did a good job.  They're not elevated at all."

Sydney raised her right hand to his chin to raise his gaze and then cupped his cheek in her hand, brushing a tear with her thumb.  "It's OK, Vaughn.  I can't even feel them.  I don't remember ever feeling them."

He simply looked into her eyes, the pain evident in his.  "God Syd, I thought you were gone – we all did.  You have to believe me.  We would never have stopped looking if we thought you were alive…"  His breathing became ragged as he tried to regain his composure, but failed.  Sydney, too, became overwhelmed as the situation hit her once again.  Her hand slid from his face as tears welled in her own eyes and her face crumpled.  They embraced each other fiercely and finally let the emotions wash over them.  She buried her head in his shoulder while he wrapped his arms around her, clutching her to his chest.  They stayed that way silently for several minutes before either spoke.  

"Why don't we sit down", he finally eked out, "unless you _want_ to stand the rest of he way to Midway?"

She choked out a small laugh and they sat down next to each other, no longer across the aisle.  After moving the armrest, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder while she leaned into him.  Neither of them felt like talking again just yet.  Before long, they both dropped off into a dreamless sleep.

Several hours later, Sydney woke first.  Her head was still pillowed on his shoulder.  She took a moment longer to enjoy his comfort before rising.  He stirred when she raised her head, taking a moment to reorient himself and glance at his watch.  "We should be touching down for refueling in about an hour.  Why don't I jump in the shower and change.  That way, they can refill the tank on Midway and you can take one on the next leg.  Unless you'd like to go first?"

"What, you getting tired of looking like a casting call reject from "RENT'?" she quipped.

"Ouch, that hurt!  And here I was thinking of staying with the look," he mocked.

"Wouldn't Kendall love that!"

"Kendall nothing!  Alice would absolutely freak out!"  He caught himself short, realizing what he had just said.

Sydney felt like she had just been kicked in the gut.  It's not as though the thought that it might be Alice hadn't occurred to her.  It was actually one of the few things that made sense.  However, actual confirmation hit hard and she slowly sank into a seat across the aisle.

"Syd, I'm sorry.  That's _not _the way I'd planned on telling you."

"No, it's Okay.  Well, actually it's not okay, but I don't think that there was ever going to be a good way for you to tell me who it was."  After she paused for a moment, she continued, "How long have you been married?"

"Five months."

"So when did the two of you get back together?"

Vaughn started running his hands through his hair, contemplating his next words.  "It wasn't like that, Syd.  We never really got back together per se.  It just sort of happened."

"What?!  You just called her on the phone one day and said, 'Hey, let's get married!'?"

"No!  Give me a chance, Syd!  It's not everyday that a guy has to explain to his dead girlfriend how he ended up marrying his ex!"

He had a good point.  "Sorry, Vaughn", she said apologetically.  "Please continue.  We might as well get this over with…"

God, this wasn't going well.  He hadn't really thought about how he was going to tell her about Alice.  He was still reeling from the fact that it was actually her.  Perhaps it was best to start from the beginning.  "About six months after you disappeared, my mom died.  Alice heard about it through mutual friends and came to the funeral.  She felt that it was the least she could do after I helped her get through her Dad's illness and death."

"Your mom died?"

"Yeah, she died of an aneurysm.  As things go, it's a pretty good way to die.  The doctor said she never felt a thing.  I actually had dinner with her the night before it happened and you would have never known anything was wrong.  The next day she was out gardening and it just happened."

"I'm so sorry.."

"It's okay, but needless to say, there are whole chunks of the last two years I would rather forget myself.

"Anyway", he continued, "Alice came to the funeral and back to the house afterwards.  We spoke for a while and sort of mended fences.  We hadn't really spoken since I broke up with her after the takedown.  She told me that she was sorry to hear about you too."

"She knew about me?"

"Everybody knew about you.  Enough of your neighbors had heard the commotion and gunfire at the apartment that the CIA couldn't really cover it up.  They decided to publicize the initial instincts that the police had.  All the papers and television stations carried the story of the home invasion where a young woman was killed, her boyfriend seriously wounded, and a beautiful young banker disappeared and was assumed abducted.  The media ate it up.  We figured it could only help in finding you and make it harder for Sloane to move you if he did have you."  He paused before continuing,  "Alice recognized your and Will's pictures on the 10 o'clock news right after it happened."

"Of course", he continued, "when she found out, she knew you as Rita Stevens, so she was more than a little confused.  She never said anything to me because we weren't really speaking. I had been honest with her when we broke up.  Even though we both knew it wasn't working, I told her that I also had feelings for a co-worker.  She immediately guessed it was you.''  Vaughn paused and gave her a small smile. "So, after my Mom's funeral, I had a little explaining to do.  I told her that you were actually an undercover agent for the Bureau of Arms Control and that was why we had lied about your name.  She asked if your job had anything to do with your disappearance and I told her that we suspected yes, but had no proof.   Will was there and he backed up my story.  It was nice to tell someone outside the CIA something approximating the truth for a change."

"After that, we got together occasionally – just as friends.  She was one of the last links that I had to my life outside the CIA.  It was good to pretend to be normal every now and then."  Vaughn took a long pause before continuing, "Later, when it finally hit me that you were gone, it felt as if I'd fallen into some kind of black hole.  I never thought I was going to come out of it.  None of my friends from the CIA were able to help.  They all just served to remind me of what had happened.  Alice was the only one who could get through.  She refused to give up on me."

"A couple of months later, when I knew I couldn't stay in the CIA, I had to choose between joining your father, and consequently your mother, or going into witness relocation.  I told her that I had to leave and why.  She actually offered to go with me if I chose relocation, seeing as she had no family left after her dad had died.  It was incredibly tempting, but I told her that I didn't want that sort of life for her.  I was trained to handle it, whatever choice I made.  She wasn't.   A few days later, we had dinner and I must have had too much to drink or something because we fell back into an old pattern and ended up sleeping together.  A couple of weeks later, she told me she was pregnant.  I couldn't leave her like that.  I did love her.  It may not have been the way it was with us, but I really did, and do, love her.  We were married a week later and went into witness protection."

Sydney sat in stunned silence.  What was there to say?  Not only was he married now, but there was a child on the way.  It felt as if someone had ripped the heart from her chest.  She just sat there in silence not knowing what to do.

"Syd, please say something", Vaughn pleaded while grabbing her hand.  She looked into his eyes, seeing the anguish there.  "Michael, I think that I may need a little time to myself.  I'm not angry, but I'm going to need some space to let this sink in".  He nodded understandingly and went and got his duffel from the bedroom and headed for the shower.  Sydney went back to the bedroom, locked the door, and cried herself to sleep.

It was several hours later when Sydney awoke.  The sun was already setting.  She guessed that she had slept through the refueling on Midway.  Vaughn had probably figured that he should give her a wide berth for a while.  Smart man.  Although she knew it really wasn't his fault and wasn't upset with him per se, she had clearly moved on to the anger phase.  The problem was that she wasn't sure where to focus it.  She wanted to hate Alice for taking him from her, but at the same time, she felt almost grateful to her for having been there for him when no one else could.  That's when she realized where she should focus her rage – Arvin Sloane – the bane of her existence.  He may or may not have had anything to do with her two-year disappearance, but he sure as hell was responsible for what happened that night.  He had sent the double and, for the _second_ time, he had robbed her of the love of her life.

After showering and changing, Sydney decided to face Vaughn.  She still had a lot of questions that needed answers.  When she returned to the cabin, she could see Vaughn was busy in the galley preparing them dinner.  He looked up from his preparations and gave her a tentative "Hey", trying to gauge her demeanor.  She decided to put on a brave face and donned one of her famous false smiles.  "Hey yourself", she replied.

"Are we OK?" he asked tentatively.

"What 'we' there is left", she replied.

He nodded his head as he gave her sad smile.   He looked down at the food that he had just prepared and asked, "Hungry?"

"Not really.  How long was I asleep?"

"About five hours.  We have about six more before we land."

"Vaughn, exactly where are we going?"

"One of the San Juan Islands.  There's an old naval air station where we can land.  Then, we'll take a boat to one of the smaller islands in the wildlife refuge that the agency has a safe house on.  Actually, the whole island belongs to the agency.  It's really quite beautiful."

"You've been there?"

"Yeah, I spent some time there right before I left."

"How long do you think they'll keep me there?"

"Maybe a couple of weeks.  Barnett will be there and probably another doctor from medical services.  They'll check you out, debrief you, and make sure no one's tracked you.  After that, I honestly don't know".  

"Who else will be there?"

Vaughn smiled when she asked this question.  "Well, despite the fact that you'll probably have to endure Kendall's presence on and off, I found out a little while ago that they're sending Will up."

Sydney beamed, "Really?  Is he still with the agency?  How is he?  I still can't believe he survived."

As Vaughn grabbed the food and guided her back to the cabin to a small seating area with a table, he told her that not only was Will still with the agency, but he was a senior analyst.  The attack, her disappearance, and Francie's death and doubling had left their marks, but he was basically the same old Will.  He and Weiss had practically become inseparable.  Dixon was also still with the agency.  He had risen up through the Joint Task Force and had become Kendall's right hand man after her father left.  They spent the next few hours discussing the rest of their friends and how their lives had changed.  

The time passed quickly and pleasantly until Sydney could no longer bear some obvious questions.  "Vaughn, what _can_ you tell me about Sloane?"  

Michael Vaughn visibly tensed and replied, "Not much, Syd.  You'll be better off waiting until they clear you and give you a full briefing."

"Vaughn, please…."

"Sydney, I've been out of the loop for over eight months.  Even if I could tell you, the information would be horribly dated."

"Wait a minute, I thought you said you'd only been in witness protection for five months."

Vaughn paused and looked down before answering, "I took some time off after we finally acknowledged that you'd probably committed suicide.  I was pretty burned out.  I took a leave while I sorted things out.  I never did go back before I left."

Sydney understood, remembering the time she took off after Danny had died and how she had planned on never returning to SD-6 until they forced her hand.  However, she couldn't help pressing the point.  "Okay then, tell me anything you can before that.  You still know more than I do.  You said he disappeared for a couple of months and then started building a new organization.  How?  How big is it?"

Vaughn was clearly becoming agitated.  "Sydney, I've already told you everything I can.  The rest of it has been classified Omega-17.  They'll probably tell you in a couple of days.  Be _patient._"

Sydney always hated it when he got that tone in his voice – the one that made her feel like a small child being admonished.  She wasn't walking away from this conversation without at least some information about Sloane.  "Fine, then", she bit out, "can you at least tell me what that thing was in Mexico City – the Rambaldi device, Il Dire?"

Sydney hadn't expected his response.   He visibly blanched and a variety of emotions flickered across his face, the most notable of which was panic.  After a few moments, he got his game face back on and deliberately stated, "I told you that it's Omega-17.  If you can't be patient and let this go for now, this conversation is over."

Sydney immediately backed off her line of questioning.  She had never seen him become so unnerved before.  They sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes, both of them staring out the windows.  Then, Sydney broached a subject that had also been gnawing at her – one to which she was dreading the answer.   "Vaughn", she began, "what happens to you when we get to the safe house?  Are you coming back in?"

Vaughn shook his head, "Syd, I can't.  I have other responsibilities now.  I have to keep my family safe.  I got them into this and I have to protect them as best I can."

"So you're just going to drop me off and head back to your new life?"  Now Sydney was the one panicking.

Vaughn closed his eyes and took his head in his hands, kneading his brow.  "Syd, it's not what I _want_ to do, it's what I _have_ to do.  After I get you to the enclave, I'll be debriefed, and then I have to leave.  It's the best way to keep both _you and my family_ safe.  You're just going to have to trust me on this."


	3. Isles of the Orca

Part 3 – Isles of the Orca 

It was almost four in the morning when the jet landed at the Whidbey Island Naval Air Station.  Both Sydney and Vaughn were desperate to get off the plane.  The small confines of the jet combined with the revelations of the past few hours had them both claustrophobic and desperate for fresh air.  The last hour and a half of the flight had been particularly awkward.

After Vaughn had told Sydney that he would be with her less than a day after getting her to the safe house, she had asked if he couldn't stay just a little bit longer.  What was the big hurry getting back to Alice and his new identity.  He would have them for the rest of his life.  All she got was now.  Vaughn had countered that he was no longer CIA, no longer had the clearance to be part of her debriefing and briefing on the status quo.  This had been an exception the agency had been willing to make.  He couldn't be missing too long from his new life.  He couldn't afford to draw suspicion.  She would understand, later.

As they disembarked the plane and walked across the tarmac, Vaughn started guiding Sydney to the small boat launch.  The crisp night air felt good in her lungs, helping her to clear her head.  She was amazed to find that the air station was humming with activity even at this early hour.  When Vaughn had referred to an old naval air station, she had envisioned some decommissioned military facility with a skeleton crew to assist the occasional flight in and out, not this.  

Just then a young Lt. Commander approached them, flanked by two MPs.  He addressed Vaughn, "Sir, we've come to escort you to the boat launch."

"That won't be necessary officer, I know the way", Vaughn replied.

"I beg to differ, sir, but my C.O. and Director Kendall disagree.  As you can see, this is an active base and we need to take potential terrorist threats seriously."

"That's ridiculous.  This woman is _not_ a threat to your facility."

"I have my orders, Sir".

Vaughn knew arguing further was futile.  He gave an apologetic nod to Sydney and took her arm.  The Lt. Commander led the way as the MPs flanked the couple.  A ten-minute walk across the airfield and down a steep flight of steps led them to a small marina.  They were escorted to the end of a dock where the navy officer and MPs stopped.  The officer motioned them down the crowded dock.

As they walked down the dock, Vaughn asked, "So do you want the good news or the bad news?"

Sydney stopped and turned to stare at him incredulously, "there's more bad news?"

"Sorry', said Vaughn as he let out a small laugh, "Let me rephrase that.  Would you like the good news or the petty and annoying news?"

Sydney relaxed and answered immediately, "petty and annoying".

"We still have a 90-minute boat ride."

Sydney groaned inwardly.  She just wanted this trip to be over.  "So what's the good news?"

"We get to ride in style", he said motioning toward a sizable yacht at the end, "and we get to watch the sunrise on the water in the San Juans."

She had to admit that it was a beautiful boat.  It was a 75-foot cabin cruiser and fairly new by the looks of it.  "So what's with the boat?"

"The cover that the CIA created for the island is that it is an executive retreat for a Seattle software company.  It would be suspicious if we traveled back and forth in military craft or standard government issue.  So, we get to cruise in this baby.  Not bad, eh?"

He escorted her up the gang plank and they were greeted by a tall heavy-set man with a crew cut.  "Vaughn", the man said with a laugh in his voice as he shook Vaughn's hand heartily and clapped him on the back with the other, "How are you doing?  Certainly didn't think I'd be seeing you again anytime soon."

"I'm doing great, Jenkins", Vaughn responded.  "How are you?  I'd like you to meet Sydney Bristow, your new guest.  Sydney, this is Agent Thomas Jenkins.  He runs the enclave"

Jenkins eyed her warily, "So you're the legendary Sydney Bristow.  Rumors of your death have been greatly exaggerated…"

Sydney took a deep breath and tried not to roll her eyes.  Something told her it wasn't going to be the last time she heard that line.  However, she had expected Weiss to be the one to deliver it, although this guy looked like he could be his cousin.  "Hi, it's a pleasure to meet you".

Jenkins escorted them to the main cabin and offered them some coffee.  He then excused himself so that he could inform the crew to cast off.  Sydney and Vaughn settled in as the boat got underway.  Sydney looked over at Vaughn who was pouring himself a cup of coffee.  She could see how tired he was.  "What are you doing?  Why don't you just stretch out?  You look exhausted.  I promise that I won't take the crew out while you nap."

"What, and miss a sunrise on the water?"  

"Seriously, Vaughn, your bags have bags.  Did you get any sleep on the plane?"

"I did for that one stretch", Vaughn said, replaying in his mind the feel of her nestled up against him.  "I catnapped on and off after that", he lied.  "Anyway, I'm too keyed up to sleep.  I'll be able to relax more once we get you there safely and settle you in."

"Did you even sleep on the way over to get me?"

She knew him too well.  She always did.  He'd been running on adrenaline and little else for days.  But there would be time to rest once they got there.  He'd have the rest of his life to rest.  "Syd, I'm fine.  I'm sure neither one of us has had enough sleep the past couple of days, but we're almost there."

Sydney nodded and went to grab herself a cup of tea.  Then, she told Vaughn that she was going to walk the deck and get some fresh air.  He'd asked if she wanted company, but she declined saying she still needed to clear her head.  He told her that he would be on the bridge with Jenkins if she needed him and they both headed out.

It was still dark outside, but you could just see the first light breaking at the edge of the horizon.  The air was crisp in comparison with Hong Kong, but still mild for this time of year in the Pacific Northwest.  She leaned against the railing on her elbows, steaming cup of tea held in her hands, and watched as the world slowly emerged from darkness, hoping that she would soon do the same.

She had been there for some time when she spotted something in the water, or thought she did.  The sky was taking on rosy hues in the east and there was just enough light to make out the shape of the islands in the distance.  A light mist danced over the water and gave everything an ethereal quality.  Vaughn was right.  This was worth staying up for.  Just then, she thought she made out something in the water once again.  She was probably seeing things.  She was still a little bit jumpy.

Vaughn came down from the bridge quickly and joined her.  He was scanning the water just where she thought she had seen something.  "What is it?  I thought I saw something out there.  Are we being followed?"  

"Just wait", he whispered.  

She looked to his face to gauge his emotions, but instead of finding it etched with concern, it looked like a child's on Christmas morning.  

"There.  There they are.  Off to the left", he said while pointing.  

Sydney looked over to see two long black shapes streaming through the water.  One was about forty feet long.  The other was about half that size.  

"What are they, Vaughn?" she asked.  

"Orcas.  They picked them up on the sonar a couple of minutes ago.  It looks like a mother and her calf.  This is great!  I've only ever seen them once before, but that was from a distance.  There was a small pod last spring, but they were only just returning to the area.  They're usually here only from May through September.  These are probably about to migrate."  His words tumbled over each other in his excitement.  His childlike glee brought a smile to Sydney's face.

"Who knew that you were an amateur oceanographer?" she quipped.

"Look at them, Syd!  You don't have to be a scientist to be impressed.  You don't get to see these kind of things in LA!"

She had to admit that he was right.  They were pretty impressive.  They were now following along side the boat with their fins and flukes clearly visible.

Jenkins came down from the bridge and joined them.  "So you get to see your friends again, eh Vaughn?"  Then, turning to Sydney, he continued, "You should have seen him last spring when he saw one of the pods from the island.  There must have been a dozen of them.  He just sat there mesmerized until they were out of sight.  You city folk are easily impressed.  Me, I've lived around here all my life.  See them every summer.  It takes a gray or a blue whale to knock the pins out from under me.  You don't get to see them very often."

Sydney was enjoying the banter.  It was good not to think about current events for a few moments.  Then, something odd struck her.  "So, you were up here last spring?  I thought you said that you had taken a leave before you went into witness relocation?"

The mood of the men immediately grew somber.  "Yeah, I did.  Your dad arranged it so I could spend some time up here.  Recharge my batteries, so to speak."

She was sorry she had brought it up.  One of the few light moments of the past few days and she had ruined it.  "I'm sorry, Vaughn.  I should have kept my mouth shut.  It's just that I'm so desperate to know what's been going on…"

"It's OK, Syd, but let's just enjoy the rest of the trip.  We'll be there soon enough.  Once Kendall's gotten all the confirmation he needs, you'll be brought up to date.  Don't be in such a hurry to return to his 'fun and games'.  Sometimes, ignorance really _is_ bliss."

With that, Jenkins excused himself to return to the bridge.  They would be arriving shortly and he wanted to radio ahead.  Sydney and Vaughn went back to watching the whales in silence, but the light-heartedness of the moment was gone.

The yacht started to approach one of the islands.  Its rocky shoreline rose up out of the water and was sprinkled with shrubs and evergreens.  The rocky crags continued to rise up until there was a heavily timbered plateau.  A few buildings could barely be made out amongst the cover of the towering pines.  One was a large contemporary-looking structure, full of glass and amber wood, facing the water.  The others were similar, but slightly smaller in scale, flanking and facing the main house.  The rooflines of the three buildings reminded her of the Sydney opera house.  Each had a central raised arch in the center where the large picture windows were.  It fit Vaughn's description of an executive retreat to a T.  It was breathtaking.

When they got closer, Sydney could see the dock with several smaller vessels along one side of it.  The other side was open, obviously reserved for the boat they were on.  She could see several people on the dock waiting for them.  She was trying to make them out when she heard Vaughn mutter, "Crap, he couldn't even wait until we walked up to the house." 

Kendall was waiting on the dock along with Dr. Barnett and two other men that Sydney didn't recognize.  Once the yacht had docked and they had disembarked, Kendall and his entourage walked up to greet them.  "_Mister_ Vaughn, I trust the rest of your trip went uneventfully."

"Yes, _Director_ Kendall.  It was delightful."

"_Agent_ Bristow", he nodded eyeing her skeptically, "how nice to see you again."

Gauging his former superior's suspicions, Vaughn added, "It's _her_."

"I'll let science be the judge of that, Vaughn.  Show me the data and then I'll believe."  Out of spite, he added, "Emotions aren't clouding my judgment."

Vaughn looked as though he might actually hit Kendall.  However, Sydney intervened, "Some things never change.  I see that you're as abrasive as ever."

"So, I see that you picked up Mr. Vaughn's nasty little attitude problem."

"One could argue that I had it first."

This actually caused Kendall to smile.  "This is true.  Let me introduce you to the others.  You already know Dr. Barnett.  This is Dr. Kramer.  He'll be conducting your physical exams. Over here, this is Agent Morganetti.  He assists Agent Jenkins in running this facility.  Let's get you up this hill and get the show on the road."

Vaughn interjected, "We've been traveling for close to 24-hours straight.  Could she at least have a chance to clean up and rest a little bit before you start the third degree?"

"Mister Vaughn, do I need to remind you that you are no longer a part of the CIA.  Your work here is done.  Your country appreciates your cooperation.  After you've been fully debriefed, you'll leave immediately as per our agreement."

Before things could escalate again between the two men, Dr. Judy Barnett intervened.  "Mr. Vaughn has a point.  I'm not going to be able to conduct a reasonable polygraph or regression therapy session if Agent Bristow is exhausted."

"Fine, have it your way", said Kendall with a wave of his hand.  "Despite appearances, we aren't running a resort here, but a CIA facility.  She can rest after she's given us some of her blood and had an ocular scan."

With that, the group ascended up the steep set of stairs to the compound passing several other agents along the way.  Once up top, Kendall ordered,  "Ms. Bristow, follow Dr. Kramer and Agent Morganetti to the lab over there on the right.  Mr. Vaughn and Dr. Barnett, join me in the main house.  Vaughn gave Sydney's hand a quick squeeze and whispered, "It's okay.  You actually got the better end of the deal.  I'll see you in a little while."  Sydney gave him a small smile and headed off with the men.

After her preliminary exams, Sydney was brought over to the main house by Agent Morganetti.  It was beautiful on the outside, but the interior was stunning.  The bottom level consisted of four sizable bedrooms off of the central dining/living area, 2 ½ bathrooms, and a large kitchen which was open to the common area.  The dining and living rooms looked out over the water through a set of large two-story windows that went to the roofline.  The second floor had a loft area which overlooked the first floor.  Off of the loft were three more bedrooms with private baths.

Dr. Barnett, who was apparently alone in the house, greeted her and brought her upstairs to her room.  It was the central one overlooking the first floor.  "Here you go, Sydney.  Why don't you get settled in and get some rest.  If you need anything, I'll be right next door."

"Dr. Barnett?"

"Please call me Judy.  We're going to be together for a while."

Sydney nodded, remembering what Vaughn had said.  Then, she continued tentatively, "Judy, where's Vaughn?"

Judy Barnett smiled at her.  "He's not gone if that's what you're worried about.  He's downstairs getting some rest.  He would never leave without saying good-bye."

"Thank you", said Sydney as tears welled in her eyes.  "I still can't believe everything that's happened – that he's going to leave and I'm never going to see him again."

Barnett took Sydney by the upper arm.  "I know that this must all be very confusing and painful for you right now.  Michael's filled me in on what he has told you.  Everything will make much more sense once Kendall has gotten his proof and we can fully brief you.  Until then, get some rest.  When you're ready later this afternoon, we can try a regression therapy sessions to see if we can help you find those missing years."

"Thanks again and, before I forget, thank you for helping Vaughn, my dad, and my friends while I was gone.  He said that you really helped them all get through it.'

"It was my pleasure.  I'm glad they finally let me do my job.  Now, get some rest."  With that Judy Barnett took her leave and went into the room next door.

Several hours later, Sydney awoke to the sound of laughter coming from the living room.  She got herself dressed and headed out to the loft.  When she looked over the railing, she saw Vaughn sitting with Will and Weiss.  She couldn't help but let out a joyful shout, "Will!".  "Syd!" he yelled back and they immediately started running towards each other.  They met on the landing halfway to the first floor and embraced.

"I saw you in the tub that night. I thought you were dead", she said sobbing as she held him tight.

"Ssshhhh, sweetie, it's alright. I'm right here.  I've got one heck of a scar on my belly, but so do you from what I hear.  As for dead, the feeling was mutual.  You had to see me when Eric told me the news."

They went downstairs and joined the others.  After giving Weiss an embrace, they all sat down, Sydney sitting down next to Will on the sofa while Vaughn and Weiss sat across from them in armchairs.  Will set about catching Sydney up on all their mutual friends outside of the CIA.

Several minutes later, Kendall entered with Jenkins and Morganetti.  He faced Sydney, holding up a clipboard in his hand, and stated, "Some intel just came in from Hong Kong that I'm sure will interest you, regarding the identity you were living under."  He asked Morganetti to get Dr. Barnett so that they could begin the briefing.  The four of them just sat there stunned.  Vaughn got up and went to leave, but Kendall stopped him.  "No, Mr. Vaughn, you can actually stay.  This information is a matter of public record, straight from the Hong Kong police."  Vaughn immediately sat down.

Once Dr. Barnett joined them, Kendall started.  "Apparently", he began, "you've been living under the identity of Suzanne Lawton, an English and Literature teacher at Saint Bartholomew's, an international high school run by the Jesuits up in the New Territories north of Kowloon.  It's a school where many of the executives from Western companies doing business in Hong Kong and the New Territories send their children.  It's also acts as an arm of the Jesuit Charities, servicing Hong Kong and the neighboring Chinese provinces."

"What?  How do the police know this?  How long was I there?", Sydney sputtered.

"Patience, Ms. Bristow, I'm getting there."

"You were reported missing to police on the morning of October 2 by your live-in boyfriend, a Mr. David Allerby, who is also a teacher at the school.  Apparently, you've been working at the school for over 18 months."  He paused and smiled pointedly at Vaughn, "you moved in with your boyfriend 10 months ago."

"There has to be some kind of mistake.  This has to be some kind of set up…" Sydney started, unable to believe that she would simply walk away and forget about her old life, her family and friends.

"I'm afraid not Ms. Bristow.  Agents in Hong Kong have verified the story.  They've interviewed the headmaster of the school, Monsignor Timothy Shea, checked out your employment and banking records, searched your home, and sent us a digital copy of this picture.  We've checked it.  It hasn't been altered".  

Kendall handed Sydney a picture of herself with a man looking to be in his early thirties, over 6 feet tall with blond hair and blue eyes.  They appeared to be on the summit of a small mountain.  The scenery was beautiful and seemed familiar, like the hills surrounding Hong Kong.  They were wearing hiking gear.  They had their arms around one another and were smiling for the camera.  They seemed happy.  It was the man who had called her 'Suzanne' in Hong Kong.  Sydney was too shocked to speak and handed the picture back to Kendall who then turned and gave it to Vaughn.

"I find it amazing that you were living a normal life, right out in the open, for almost two years.  It's very amusing really.  What do you think, Vaughn?"

Vaughn looked up from staring at the picture, his face showing a mixture of shock and anger.    "You find it _amusing_ that the world's foremost intelligence agency was unable to find one of its own for almost two years??  Oh, _that's_ right, the CIA refused to allot _any_ resources to the search unless it related directly to Sloane or Derevko!"  

As the men's tempers flared, Will and Weiss grew increasingly uncomfortable.  Sydney stared off into space, still unable to comprehend what she had been told.  Dr. Barnett rose up and stepped in, "Director Kendall, may I speak with you privately for a moment?!"

Director Kendall rose and followed Dr. Barnett into one of the downstairs bedrooms.  After the door shut, the others could hear muffled shouting.  What was being said was unclear, but what was clear was that it was Barnett who was doing most of the shouting.  Will leaned over to Sydney, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's just a little much to take in at the moment."

"Syd, it's not your fault," Will said as he put his hand around her shoulder.  "Dr. Barnett told us about her theory.  You had no control over it, especially after what happened that night."

Sydney looked over to Vaughn, who had gone back to staring at the picture.  "Vaughn?" she said softly, her voice barely audible.  He looked up and she noticed that the anger in his eyes had been replaced by the pain which Kendall had been obviously hoping to inflict earlier.  "He's right, Syd.  We talked about this 'fugue' stuff on the way over.  You had no control."  His words said one thing, his voice said another.

Eric Weiss leaned over, slapped his friend on the shoulder, and asked, "Why don't we go out and get some fresh air?  I haven't been out of LA in months and it'd be a real treat to breathe air you can't see."  Vaughn nodded his assent and put the photo on the coffee table in front of Sydney.  "We'll be back in little while, okay?"

"Promise?" was all Sydney could say.  Vaughn nodded, gave her a small smile, and then went outside with Weiss and Jenkins.

"How could I do this?  How could I do this to all of you, Will?"

"Syd, it was a long time coming.  I can't believe you lasted as long as you did before something like this happened.  You've been able to deal with an amazing amount of stuff, but what happened that night was more than enough to put anyone over the edge in and of itself.  Why do think we were all able to believe that you'd actually killed yourself?"

Sydney picked up the picture and shook her head.  "I don't even remember him, Will.  I mean, he seems vaguely familiar, but how can you forget someone you must have been sleeping with for months."

Will shrugged, "you're going to have to save that one for Dr. Barnett.  I have no clue."

A few moments later Dr. Barnett and Kendall emerged from the other room.  Kendall actually appeared cowed.  Judy Barnett addressed Sydney, "I'm sorry that you had to learn about things so abruptly.  I'm only glad that what you apparently experienced was a fugue as opposed to something more nefarious.  I'm sure it's disconcerting to you nonetheless, but it makes me feel much more comfortable about using regression therapy on you to help you remember.  At least the memories we will be trying to reclaim shouldn't do you any harm.  I know it may seem a bit soon, but would you be willing to have a brief session with me now.  It may help you assimilate some of this information."

"Yes, I'd actually like that", she said, surprised by her own admission.

"Good.  Why don't we head up to your room."

Not wanting to be left alone to endure Kendall, Will rose and said, "I'll see you later, Syd.  I'm going to try and find the guys outside."

Dr. Barnett and Sydney stopped their session about an hour and a half later, the smell of food wafting up from the kitchen calling to them.  They came downstairs to find Agent Morganetti in the kitchen and an enormous lasagna cooking in the oven.  "Sorry ladies, but my repertoire is limited when cooking for a crowd.  There's a bottle of wine on the counter if you're interested."  Sydney looked to Dr. Barnett who simply said, "Go ahead, you've certainly earned it."  Sydney grabbed a glass of wine and headed into the living room with Judy Barnett.

Kendall and Vaughn were on the deck outside the living room.  They were arguing yet again.  Vaughn was becoming incredibly agitated.  "We've finally just got settled in there.  She's almost six months pregnant.  Is this really necessary?"  

"I believe so, Mr. Vaughn.  We can't take any chances on anyone discovering that Agent Bristow is alive just yet.  Moving you and your wife is the safest thing to do for all of you in case anybody has become suspicious due to your absence."  

Vaughn reluctantly nodded his assent, "At least give me a few days to break the news to her."  

"Just till the weekend then."

The two of them returned to the house.  Kendall asked Dr. Barnett to join him in the other room to discuss the therapy session while Vaughn went over to Sydney.  "Hey, how did it go?" he said as he gently clasped her shoulder.

"It actually went well", she stated.  "I only got bits and pieces – kids in a classroom, an apartment – stuff like that, but it helped to make this all a little more real.  I remembered who the other man in the alley was too.  It was the headmaster for the school, Father Tim.  But most of it was weird, like watching a movie that I'd never seen before."

Just then, Will, Weiss, and Jenkins came in and joined them.  "By the smells of it, dinner's almost ready", joked Jenkins.  "You're in for a real treat.  Morganetti makes a mean lasagna, but his stews are to be avoided at all costs".  

"Hey, I heard that!", Morganetti piped from the kitchen.  "Dinner in five minutes!"

"How did your talk with Kendall go?" Weiss asked Vaughn.  

"Not so good", he replied, "We're being relocated over the weekend."  

"Sorry, man", was all Weiss could say.  

"I'm sorry too, Vaughn", Sydney added.  

"It's okay, really.  It's not your fault."

"If it's not, I'd like to know whose it is..."

Vaughn started rubbing his temples.  "Seriously, Syd, it's alright.  It is what it is.  Please don't worry about it.  You've got enough on your plate."

"Dinner's ready!" Morganetti yelled from the kitchen.  Everyone in the living room got up and started to head toward the dining area, except for Vaughn who stood still, apparently lost in thought, an odd look on his face.  Eric Weiss turned to his friend and asked, "Are you coming, or what?"  "In a minute", Vaughn replied absently, "I have to get something in my room".  Then, he headed off.  Will and Sydney had turned when they heard the exchange.  Will and Weiss exchanged curious glances and Will motioned Eric to follow Vaughn. Then, Will took Sydney's arm and escorted her towards the dining table.

Will and Sydney had not even sat down before they heard a panicked yell come from one of the bedrooms.  "Dr. Barnett, come quickly, it's Vaughn!"  Judy Barnett leapt from the table with the others following swiftly behind her.  They found Eric Weiss bent over the motionless form of his friend who had apparently collapsed on the floor.

"What happened", asked Dr. Barnett, kneeling beside Weiss and turning over an unconscious Vaughn.

"I'm not sure.  He was acting a little strange.  So I followed him in, just in case.  He keeled over as soon as he got in here."

Suddenly, it was as if every muscle in Vaughn's body tensed.  "Oh, God", Judy Barnett breathed.  "Jenkins, run to the lab and get Dr. Kramer.  Tell him to grab his meds kit and an oxygen canister and come here immediately!"

"What's happening?!" cried Sydney as Will held her back.  Before Dr. Barnett could answer though, Vaughn had started convulsing.  Dr. Barnett and Weiss were holding him on his side.  Dr. Barnett yelled to Kendall, "Grab me a pillow from the bed!"  Kendall quickly did as he was told.  Barnett placed the pillow under Vaughn's head.

"He should be okay in a few minutes, Sydney."

"What are you talking about?  Look at him!  What the hell is going on?"

"He's an epileptic, Sydney.  He's having a grand mal seizure.  It should be over shortly."

"What? How? Since when?"

Just then, Jenkins and Dr. Kramer returned with the things Dr. Barnett had requested.  "How long has he been seizing", said Dr. Kramer.

"About three minutes", said Barnett.

"That long?  Do you want to start him on something?"

"No, not yet.  I'm not sure what he's taking.  If it doesn't stop shortly though, we can try some diazepam, 5 mg."

Dr. Kramer opened up his meds kit and prepared a syringe, but before he could offer it to Barnett, the convulsing had stopped.  

"Thank God", whispered Barnett.  Then, she began gently shaking Vaughn's shoulder.  "Michael?  Michael, can you hear me?  What medication are you on?  When was the last time you took it?"

Vaughn was rousing as if from a deep sleep.  His speech was all drowsy and confused and he was still lying prone on the floor.  "Stopped taking it on the way over…. Can't take that stuff in the field… What if it's a trap?  What if it's her?  Have to be able to think straight…"

"Michael, what were you taking?  Is it the same medication or did your new doctor switch you to something else?"  Dr. Barnett's voice was becoming tinged with panic.

Before he could answer her, he lapsed back into unconsciousness and the cycle repeated itself.  This time, however, the seizure was even more violent.  As Dr. Barnett contemplated her next move, Sydney shouted at Kendall, "What's his name?"

"What?!"

"What's his name now?!   On the plane, I saw a bottle of medication for someone named Evan Markham!  Is that his name?!"

Everyone looked at Kendall while the seizure continued and Vaughn's skin took on a bluish appearance.  "_Dammit_ Kendall, is it?" Judy Barnett bit out."

"Yes"

"Dilantin with phenobarbitol, 2 capsules, twice per day", Sydney yelled to the doctors.

"Okay, Dr. Kramer give me that syringe and set up an IV drip for him with ten more over the next two hours", she said as she injected the drug into his vein.  "He's gone into status due to withdrawal.  Once we get him under control, we'll start him on oxygen."

Within a minute the seizure had ended, everyone in the room was looking at Vaughn and the doctors, not knowing what to do.

"Everyone, it's probably all over.  Please let Dr. Kramer and I handle this and go out into the other room.  We'll come out and update you shortly.  Mr. Weiss, could you stay and help us get him into bed."

"Of course"

With that, the others filed out of the room, although Sydney had to be pulled away by Will.  "Come on, Syd.  We can't do anything for him right now.  He'll be Okay."  She reluctantly allowed herself to be pulled away.

Once back in the living room, Sydney immediately launched into Kendall.  "Tell me exactly what's going on and don't give me any more of your 'Omega-17' crap!"

"Agent Bristow, a lot has happened while you were off on holiday!  If you were so concerned about your old boyfriend, then where the hell were you ten months ago!"

"What?  What are you talking about?"

Kendall immediately shut up, realizing his error.  He fixed her with an icy glare.

Will Tippin finally broke the silence.  "Syd, he was injured ten months ago during an operation.  The seizures are related and started a couple of months after that."

"What happened?"

"For that, you're just going to have to wait until tomorrow when the blood tests come back", Kendall cautioned.

Sydney had never liked Kendall, but at that moment she wanted to rip his face off.

Judy Barnett emerged from Vaughn's room about an hour later.  "He's going to be fine", she announced.  "He'll need to stay a little longer so that we can get him stabilized back on his medication without incident, but then he can leave."

"How much longer does he have to stay?" asked Kendall.

"Probably just another day or so."  She paused briefly before continuing, "Did you tell him to stop taking the medication?"

"Of course not!  Had I known about it, I would never have sent him after her."

"He's been taking this medication almost from the beginning!  Didn't you look at his file?"

"There wasn't time.  I asked him if he was still having the seizures and he said he hadn't had one for several months.  I assumed he was off the drugs.  I felt it was worth the risk."

"He wasn't having seizures _because _of the medication!  And who are you to analyze medical risks!  Or did you even care!"

"That's enough, Dr. Barnett!  Vaughn obviously made some choices here and what's done is done."

Sydney was tired of their arguing.  She had only one thing on her mind.  "Is he awake?  Can we see him?"

Her questions took Barnett and Kendall by surprise, essentially ending their argument.  "He's not awake, Sydney," said Dr. Barnett.  He's fairly heavily sedated to prevent another episode.  He'll be taken off the IV and the oxygen in about an hour.  He'll probably sleep right through until tomorrow morning, but then he'll probably be back to his old self."

"Can I see him?"

"The best thing you could do for him is to get something to eat and get some sleep yourself.  The last thing that he would want is for you to make yourself sick worrying about him.  He's going to be fine."

"Please, I just need to see that he's okay.  I won't stay long."

Dr. Barnett nodded in understanding, "Just a few minutes then."

"I don't think that's a good idea", Kendall interjected.

"You think she's a danger to him?  If she'd wanted to hurt him, she needn't have told us about the prescription she saw."

"Fine, but if he starts saying anything under sedation, I want her out of there.  I'm serious about waiting for final confirmation".

Judy Barnett led Sydney back to the room where Eric Weiss was reading a book in an armchair off to the side, keeping an eye on his friend.  Barnett explained to him the terms of Sydney's visit and then returned to the others.  

Sydney went over to the bed and took a good look at Vaughn.  He was breathing easier and his color had returned.  If it weren't for the IV and the oxygen, one would have thought he was enjoying a peaceful sleep.  She knelt down beside him and took his hand in hers.  It was the first time she got a good look at the chain around his neck and the Medic-Alert tag glistening on his chest.  

She felt so stupid for not having figured out something was wrong earlier. The necklace.  The prescription.  His insistence on her wearing the helmet and jacket in Hong Kong.  Then, Kendall's words echoed in her head.  That's when she put all the pieces together.  "Vaughn, I'm so sorry", she whispered.  "I didn't know.  I swear I didn't know."

"Syd", said Eric Weiss softly as he came up behind her, putting his hand on her shoulder, "he's going to be fine."  "I know it looked pretty scary.  It scared the crap out of me the first time I saw one.  But he's going to be okay.  You'll see in the morning".

"I'm not just talking about that."

"What then?"

"I didn't put it all together until just now.  He told me how Sloane had abducted that operative, trying to flush me out.  He just didn't tell me it was him."

Eric Weiss simply looked down at the floor.

"What the hell did he do to him, Eric?"

"You know I can't tell you that until you've been cleared, but take your favorite Sloane-Rambaldi worst-case scenario and you're not even halfway there."


	4. Revelations

                                                Part 4   -   Revelations

Michael Vaughn woke up with his head pounding and his stomach growling, wondering exactly where the hell he was.  It took him just a moment to remember where, how he got there was another story.  He was dressed in nothing but boxer shorts which, in and of itself, was nothing unsettling except he couldn't remember how he got that way.  He sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the clock on the night table that read 5:00 AM.  The last thing he remembered was getting up to go to dinner when an odd feeling came over him; that feeling, a tingly sensation followed by the smell of almonds.  That is how it always started.  

He remembered that he tried to get to his room before it hit, but couldn't remember whether or not he had.  He silently prayed that it was Weiss who had found him and stuck him in bed, keeping the incident to himself, but then he saw the small bandage on his forearm.  Removing it, he saw the puncture left over from the IV.  "Sh**", he muttered out loud.  He still hoped that somehow Sydney hadn't found out, but it didn't seem likely.  It was the only thing he had asked of them in return for his cooperation and he blew it himself.

His head continued to pound and he wondered if Morganetti still kept a bottle of ibuprofen in the kitchen.  Even if he didn't, maybe some food would help.  He hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday and not much before that.  He quietly pulled on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt and headed out toward the kitchen.  He was a bit groggy, but it only took him a few steps to get his legs functioning normally. 

It was still dark outside, but someone had left the light on over the kitchen sink.  There was just enough light to navigate from here to there without tripping over things and waking the others.  It would be bad enough later when he had to face whatever had happened.  He certainly didn't want to deal with it now.  

He had just reached the sink and was pulling the medicine bottle from the cabinet when he heard someone from the darkened living room say, "Should you be out of bed?"  He immediately stiffened and, without turning around, shook his head and stated wryly, "I guess that answers my question".

"What was that?" Sydney asked without rising from the sofa where she had been sitting.

"Whether or not I put on a little show last night."

"That's not funny.  You scared me.  You scared all of us."

After taking a deep breath, he decided to finish taking the ibuprofen before heading into the living room.  If he was going to have to have this conversation right now, he sure as hell wanted to get rid of the headache.  He sat down on the opposite end of the sofa, just barely able to make out her features in the dim light from the kitchen.  She sat cross-legged in the opposite corner.  They stared at each other silently for a few moments, each unsure of how to start the next phase of the conversation.  Sydney finally broached the topic, 'Why didn't you say anything?"

Now there was a loaded question.  What had they told her?  It would be best to keep things as simple as possible for now.  "There was no reason for you to know.  I hadn't had a seizure for months.  On the way to Hong Kong, though, I probably did something stupid.  I stopped taking my medication.  It makes me fuzzy and I didn't think that going out in the field like that was a great idea.  It  has Phenobarbital in it.  I mean, I know that it's not Scopolamine or Sodium Pentothal, but it's close enough.  I couldn't afford that.  I didn't know what I was walking into."  He paused before continuing, " As for what you probably saw last night, it really isn't a big deal, Syd.  I never remember them and I'm usually fine afterwards.  I'm sorry that you had to see it.  Apparently, they're a lot worse on the spectators."

 "How can you apologize to me when it's all my fault?" she rasped out.

"What?!  What the hell did they tell you?"  He really wished he had stayed in his room now.

"_They_ didn't tell me much of anything.  You've all been good at that.  I finally just put it all together."

"What?"  He could feel the panic rising, but tried to push it back down.

"Vaughn, please, I'm tired of playing this game", she pleaded.  "They told me you were injured during a mission ten months ago and that you developed the seizures later.  _You_ told me about the operative that Sloane had abducted around the same time.  I'm not an idiot!  I put it together and they didn't deny it.  Don't you deny it either."

Vaughn leaned over and held his head in his hands.  "It's not your fault.  You had no idea.  Even if I had known you were alive, I wouldn't have wanted you to do anything.  You were safe.  You're not to blame for Sloane's obsessions.  I was extracted and recovered.  End of story."

Just then, they could hear one of the doors opening upstairs.  Vaughn was relieved to see Judy Barnett appear.  At least this conversation would be over for now.  She came down fully dressed and flicked on the lights.  Both Sydney and Vaughn shielded their eyes from the sudden brightness.  

She addressed Vaughn first.  "You're up early considering that I gave you enough Valium to put down a horse.  How are you feeling?"

At least that explained the grogginess.  "I'm hungry."

"Well that's a good sign.  Let's get you something to eat.  Then, you can start back on your medication _immediately_."

"How did you know…"

"You told me."

"Oh...  What else did I miss?"

"My first double-header.  What you did was incredibly dangerous.  You're lucky that you got off so easily.  Going off of that medication cold turkey can lead to non-stop seizures which is exactly what happened.  You're lucky that Sydney was able to tell us that you were still on it and what the dosage was."

Vaughn's head immediately swiveled to Sydney with a questioning look.  Now she was the one who wished she had never left her room.  "I saw the pills on the plane.  I didn't know for sure that they were yours."

"You went through my stuff?"

"Vaughn, I went through all the bags in that room.  It was right after we got on the plane.  You hadn't told me anything yet except that it was two years later and you all thought that I could be a double.  I was desperate for information.  Then, I saw that it said Phenobarbital and thought that maybe you planned to use it on me."

Vaughn shook his head incredulously.  "What a pair we make" was all he could say.

"Okay then", said Judy Barnett, "On that note, why don't we all get some breakfast.  The others will be up soon."

-------------------------------

After breakfast, Vaughn went to be checked out by Dr. Kramer while Sydney had another session with Dr. Barnett, still trying to sort out how she had ended up in Hong Kong.  Later, as everyone was enjoying their lunch, Kendall strode in with Sydney's test results waving in his hand.  "_Agent Bristow, _it's good to have you back. You've passed every test with flying colors.  We can start your debrief immediately.  Weiss, Tippin, Dr. Barnett, let's all head over to the conference room in the Security and Communications building."

"Wait!" cried Vaughn rising from the table, "We had an agreement!"

"Yes, Mr. Vaughn, we did, but you're still here on the island through no fault of mine. It was the unexpected consequence of _your_ decision to stop your medication.  That half of the agreement is moot anyway.  We didn't tell her about your condition.  You illustrated it for her in glorious Technicolor."   "As for the other half, not only are you still here, but the good doctor disagrees with your leaving before Ms. Bristow is fully informed.  Something about the two of you needing closure", he said as he circled the papers over his head."

"What?!"

"Michael, calm down," Dr. Barnett tried to soothe.  "I know that this isn't what you wanted, but I believe it's in both your and Sydney's best interest.  Ideally, this process could have taken place over several weeks or months, but we don't have that kind of time", she said glaring at Director Kendall.  "You may not agree with me now, but you will with time."

"The two of you can go to hell!" yelled Michael Vaughn as he stormed from the kitchen and out the back door, slamming it behind him.

The others simply sat at the table, stunned by the encounter they had just witnessed.  Kendall turned to Agents Jenkins and Morganetti and commanded, "Radio down to the dock and order it secured.  I don't want our friend leaving before we finish this."  Then, he turned back to the table.  "What are you all waiting for?  Let's get this show on the road!"

Even though Sydney was relieved that she was finally going to get answers to what the hell had happened over the past two years, she couldn't stem the wave of dread that had begun to engulf her.  Everyone rose from the table and headed over to the second building that flanked the house, the one that Sydney had yet to enter.  No one spoke as they filed into the building.

Once inside, she saw a wall of monitors.  There must have been twenty of them.  All of them were showing some part of the enclave.  Apparently, there were several monitors in the main house and in the lab and bunkhouse in the other building.  None of them appeared to be in any of the bedrooms of the main house.  Thank God.  There were many focused on the rocky shoreline and dock and others that were aimed at what appeared to be woodlands.  The island must be bigger than she thought. Off the room with the monitors and communication equipment was an arsenal.  Flack jackets, helmets, and semi-automatic rifles were lined up against one wall while the other held a variety of smaller weapons and equipment.  This place was equipped to handle a full-out invasion.

There was another room off the communications room which was set up as a conference room.  There were several monitors placed around the long conference table in the middle.  Everyone filed in and took their places.  Sydney was motioned to one end of the table while Kendall sat down at the other.

"Agent Bristow", Kendall began, "Mr. Vaughn briefed me fully about what he told you on the way over regarding the investigation surrounding your disappearance.  I've brought the others up to speed.  In addition, Agent Weiss has informed me about what you've been able to piece together on your own, which is unfortunately accurate.  This afternoon we're going to focus on the gaps in your knowledge, most prominently those involving Arvin Sloane."

"As you have been told, Arvin Sloane disappeared for several months after our encounter in Mexico City.  Then, he reappeared with a new organization made up of former contacts, mercenaries, et cetera.  Suddenly, this new organization started assimilating other organized crime organizations at an astounding rate.  This usually happened right after key figures from these other organizations started showing up dead from unknown causes.  Every now and then some would have other injuries, but none of them fatal.  The primary cause of death remained elusive."

While Kendall continued speaking, slides of the victims flashed before them on the monitors.  Sydney recognized some of them as K-directorate and Triad members with whom she had had run-ins in the past.  The pictures showed the bodies where they had been dumped.  Most were not obviously injured, although some were shown with obviously mangled limbs.

"What was clear was that Sloane was able to get crucial intel from these victims that enabled him to take over their operations without question.  More and more terrorist cells and organizations keep coming under his folds, either through intimidation or the abduction and murder of key players, during which he somehow obtains all of the critical information regarding their organization.  Currently, his organization rivals the size of the former Alliance and it is still growing.  It contains all or part of the following criminal organizations:  K-directorate, the Triad, the Italian and French Mafia, the Russian Mob, and the Yakuza."

"His ability to obtain critical information about these organizations appears to be directly linked to the Rambaldi device that Sloane constructed in Mexico City, Il Dire.  Rumors about Il Dire have been running rampant through organized crime networks and the international intelligence community for 18 months.  It was originally believed to be some sort of torture device, but the condition of most of the victims seemed to contradict that assessment.  Up until ten months ago, the only intel we had on it came from your father who was in Mexico City while it was being built.  His only observation was that whatever it was seemed to require a great deal of energy."

Kendall paused and let go a deep breath before continuing, "We had no direct knowledge about the potential power of Il Dire until after Vaughn's abduction and subsequent extraction approximately two months later.  Unfortunately, we learned it at a terrible price.  Less than a week after his extraction, while he was still in a CIA hospital abroad, the Joint Task Force detention facility was raided to obtain Sark's release.  Sloane's raid was successful and left 9 agents dead – 4 from the CIA, 2 from the FBI, and 3 U.S. Marshals.  Dozens more were wounded.  These were the agents who were killed."  Kendall flashed the faces on the screen.  Sydney was acquainted with all of them.  However, two of them were friends – Agents Craig Blair and Christine Phillips.  Sydney stifled a strangled cry and held her head in her hands.

"Director Kendall, could you please hold up for a moment?" asked Dr. Barnett.  "Sydney, are you alright?  Would you like us to take a break for a little bit?"

"No, I'll be fine.  This just caught me off guard.  Please continue Director Kendall", she said shakily as she gratefully accepted a box of tissues which Will passed to her from one of the side tables.

Kendall continued, his voice slow and deliberate, "There was only one way that Sloane could have gotten the intel to conduct the raid on that facility – Michael Vaughn.  All the information Sloane needed to carry out the assault came from the research Vaughn had conducted on the facility as part of his _unauthorized_ investigation of your mother during her incarceration.  He is the _only_ person who knew all of the details."  Kendall paused and looked over at Sydney who sat in horrified silence, not knowing what to expect next.

Kendall began again, "We needed to know what else Vaughn may have let Sloane have.  There was a problem, however.  Vaughn had been injured during his captivity. Along with sustaining several broken ribs and limbs, he had fallen into some sort of catatonic state and was unable to tell us anything.  We tried everything to break him out of it, including drugs and electroshock, but nothing worked initially."  

"The agencies involved decided that we couldn't risk what Vaughn may have told Sloane.  Consequently, anything that Michael Vaughn had ever worked on had to be considered comprised.  Dozens of agents and contacts had to be pulled from the field.  The JTF facility was abandoned and the task force relocated to other quarters at a cost of millions.  The same was done to the enclave on Bainbridge Island near Seattle.  All classified materials and protocols that he had ever come in contact with either had to be moved or considered compromised.  The list goes on and on."  The irritation in Kendall's voice was growing and he knew he shouldn't continue.  "Doctor Barnett, perhaps this would be a good point for you to take over the briefing…"

Kendall sat down and Judy Barnett continued.  "It had been several weeks since Michael's extraction and, although most of his physical injuries were healing, we were having no success in breaking him out of the catatonia.  His EEGs and MRIs were showing alterations, suggesting that something had been done to his brain, but we couldn't say what.  All of Sloane's other victims were dead so we had no one with whom we could compare him."   

"Finally, we realized that what we were seeing was probably a combination of problems.  One of the neurologists whom we brought into examine Vaughn brought up the possibility of something called complex partial status epilepticus, which is basically epilepsy without the violent convulsions that you witnessed last night.  It's basically a seizure which stays entirely in the brain and can mimic catatonia.  However, it should have responded somewhat to the treatments that we had tried, especially the drugs.  So, we guessed that he was also probably suffering from posttraumatic stress syndrome.  Consequently, we decided on a treatment path which included drugs for the epilepsy and psychotherapy for the PTSD, hoping to break through to him.  The only thing we needed was some way to open the door to his mind."

"Many posttraumatic stress patients avoid the people, situations, or activities which are reminders of the original traumatic events because these exposures can cause their symptoms to worsen, cause them to withdraw further.  In Michael's case, that meant all of us.  We had to find someone or something to help bring him out that had nothing to do with you, the CIA, Sloane, or Rambaldi.  This was incredibly difficult because his job was his life at that point in time."

Sydney looked up with tears in her eyes and said, "Oh my God, Alice…."  Dr. Barnett shook her head and looked over to Will and Weiss to continue the story.

Will Tippin continued, "Syd, when Dr. Barnett told us her theory about what Vaughn needed, we both thought of Alice immediately.  With his mom gone, she was basically his only significant tie left to his life outside the CIA.  She _still_ _didn't even know_ he worked for the CIA.  They had become friends again and she had been calling us trying to find out where he was.  At that point, he had been gone from LA for two and a half months.  We had originally told her that he had taken a temporary assignment abroad, but then we told Barnett about her and the CIA decided to bring her in."

"We told her what Mike actually did, which kind of freaked her out, and then we told her the basics about what happened to him and how she needed his help.  She took a leave of absence immediately from her job as a physical therapist.  Then, Dr. Barnett and her team, Vaughn, and Alice were brought here about seven and a half months ago.  This was the new enclave that the CIA had set up to replace Bainbridge.  We couldn't bring him back to LA because the facilities there had been compromised."  Will nodded back towards Dr. Barnett.

"Without getting into all the details", continued Judy Barnett, "Michael started responding within a couple of weeks.  Within a month, we were able to start regressing him to find out what had actually happened to him."

"After everything he had been through, you started regressing him almost immediately!"  Sydney could not believe what she was hearing.

Kendall leapt in, "_Agent Bristow_, did you miss what I said earlier?  Nine agents dead.  Dozens wounded.  Other agents and intel compromised.  Need I elaborate more?  Vaughn understood what needed to be done and cooperated."

"Yes", Dr. Barnett interrupted, "he did, but that does not mean that it wasn't a long and difficult process.  Not long after we got here, when Michael emerged from the catatonic state he appeared to be in, he started having the full-blown grand mal seizures.  These ended up confirming that it was indeed epilepsy with which we were dealing.  He had them almost daily until we were able to get him on the right medication, which took several weeks.  After that, the seizures started tapering off.  By the time he left here, he was down to one every couple of weeks."

"His regression therapy sessions were very successful.  Although these sessions were occasionally difficult on him, he was not only able to give us the particulars about what had happened to him during his captivity, but also gave us detailed information on the Rambaldi device, Il Dire.  Apparently, it had been used on him repeatedly and he had been able to glean what it was and, to some extent, how it worked."  Judy Barnett then gestured to Will Tippin to continue.

"Syd", Will began, "as you know, right before you left, the NSA facility was raided and all 24 Rambaldi artifacts that the government had were taken along with several of his manuscripts.  These artifacts were combined with the ones that Sloane had already to create a device that looked something like this".  Will pressed a button on his laptop and brought up sketches on the monitors of something that looked like a primitive MRI, the medical device used to perform body scans.  However, looking at the scale on these sketches she could see that it was actually much smaller and that the opening could not possibly accommodate an entire body.

"These sketches were created using Vaughn's recollections of the device.  You can clearly see where some of the items taken from the NSA fit into it.  We are assuming that the other parts are the Rambaldi artifacts that Sloane already had.  The last piece that was taken, the Di Regno heart appears to be part of the power supply over here."

Will took a deep breath, not sure how to continue.  "Syd, it's a memory extraction and storage device.  The opening is just large enough for someone's head.  The subject is restrained and their head is slid into it.  When the device is activated, whatever the person is thinking is transmitted to the device and then it can subsequently be transmitted to someone else.  Vaughn never told Sloane anything.  Sloane would ask him questions while the device was activated, but he'd never answer.  However, over time, he realized what was happening because Sloane's questions would become more and more detailed.  Questions he could only ask if he knew the answers to the previous ones he had asked.  By then, Sloane had asked dozens of questions about you and the Joint Task Force facility."

"Was it painful for him?"  Sydney broke in, emotion choking her voice.

Will looked down.  "Not originally, according to him.  There was an odd sensation, but it wasn't really painful.  However, when he realized what was going on, he tried to resist it.  Apparently, the device can only pick up a person's active thoughts, kind of like the RAM on a computer.  When a computer program is running and in the RAM, you can access the data, but you can't when the program isn't running. When Vaughn realized this, he tried to think about other things, mundane things, so that Sloane couldn't get whatever he was after.  The device had some kind of variable control so that it could not only pick up someone's primary thoughts, but also their background thoughts.   When Mike resisted, Sloane would crank it up and that was supposed to be pretty unpleasant."

Sydney looked down and bit her lip as Will pressed ahead.

"Anyway, Vaughn apparently got pretty good at resisting, or Sloane was afraid to use the device on him full throttle as he still needed him alive, because that's when he started the physical torture while using the device in an attempt to break him down.  He never used drugs though.  I guess they distorted the data somehow.  Typically, he would break or re-break something.  He was careful not to do anything life-threatening, just stuff that would definitely get his attention."

"The interesting thing is that Vaughn apparently wasn't the only person from whom Sloane had problems getting information.  After we learned all this stuff from Vaughn, we went back and looked at the other victims.  Of the two dozen or so victims that we have been able to identify, only two or three had obvious injuries, similar to Vaughn's.  It was weird - they were all left-handed.  According to Marshall, left-handed people predominantly use the right side of their brain while right-handed people use the left.  Essentially, their brains are wired differently.  Only five to ten percent of the population are like this.  Apparently, Rambaldi optimized the device to work best on most people, right-handed, left-brained people.  When we looked at the left-handed victims, Sloane had the most trouble taking over their organizations."

"Unfortunately for Vaughn, though, Sloane was able to spend a lot of time with him.  All of the other victims died within a week of their abduction.  He had Vaughn for eight weeks.  He simply just kept at him.  A few days before he was extracted, Sloane took the device and left.  We know now that he needed to use it in Japan on someone from the Yakuza.  It was while he was away that your mother was able to get a location on Vaughn through one of the mercenaries that Sloane had left to guard him.  Apparently, he felt he wasn't getting paid enough.  Your mother immediately contacted the CIA and Vaughn was extracted."

"Where was he?" Sydney choked out, tears streaming down her face.

"He was abducted during an operation in France and was recovered from a Basque Separatists camp in Andorra."

"Would you like to stop for a while, Sydney?" Dr. Barnett asked, her voice laced with concern.

"You mean there's more?" Sydney cried as she cradled her head in her hands.

"Unfortunately, yes, Agent Bristow", interjected Kendall.  In addition to his activities with Il Dire, Sloane has been desperately trying to rebuild Markovich's doubling device.  I don't think I need to point out how horrible it would be if Sloane were able to have both of these devices at his disposal.  As a precaution, all G8 leaders and their cabinet ministers now undergo monthly DNA testing and screening for anti-rejection drugs.  However, there are hundreds of thousands of lesser dignitaries and captains of industry.  Screening all of them on a regular basis would be impossible.  Obviously, this information cannot be shared with the rest of the world as it would likely cause political panic and chaos on world markets."

"So far, with help from your mother, believe it or not, we've been able to keep one step ahead of Sloane in his attempts to build a new device.  All of Markovich's computer files were destroyed in Marseilles at the server farm, but Sloane has painstakingly taken all of Markovich's earlier work from his research notebooks and the like and now has his own team of experts trying to build a device.  Luckily, the files that you copied for the CIA before destroying the original device in Poland were still being evaluated at Langley.  Sloane did not get a hold of them during the raid on the JTF facility."

"Your mother, and now your father, have been helping us by channeling whatever intel they come across regarding his attempts to rebuild the device.  This, plus the knowledge we already have in house about how the device works, has allowed us to play hand check with Sloane by cutting him off from crucial information, equipment, and supplies, preventing him from completing his work.  However, we think that he is getting dangerously close to having a working prototype."

 "As for your parents, they have purposely made it so that they can only contact us and not vice versa.  They send us information via e-mail through anonymous re-mailers.  All attempts to trace them have been futile.  Apparently, they fear that we will attempt to recapture your mother.  Nothing could be further from the truth."

"What?" asked Sydney incredulously.  Why?"

"Because she _is_ the Prophecy woman.  If Arvin Sloane is successful, he will no doubt be the 'Greatest Power'.  According to the prophecy, she is the only one who can bring him down.  She can't really do that if we have her behind bars, can she?"

Sydney was stunned.  The world had truly been turned upside down.

Kendall continued once again, "Arvin Sloane had been desperately seeking you because he thought _you_ were the Prophecy woman.  He had gotten Page 47 along with the artifacts in the NSA raid.  He still believes that the 'Greatest Power' refers to the United States.  That is why he was so desperate to find you.  He thought that he couldn't fulfill his destiny without you.  After he kidnapped Vaughn and used the device on him, he realized that you couldn't be the Prophecy woman because of you little field trip to Mount Sebacio.  He finally came to accept you were dead.  Now, he is playing a world-wide game of cat and mouse with your mother, trying to get her to join forces with him once again.  However, that is unlikely as she feels that he is responsible for the death of her only child."

"All of this is why we were so suspicious of your turning up in Hong Kong.  Not only did we truly think you were dead, we also believed that perhaps Sloane had finally perfected the device.  We thought he might use a double of you to convince your mother that you were still alive.  Perhaps then she would be willing to join forces with him again.  We thought that Ms. Calfo's double might have obtained some of your DNA before your confrontation.  This, when combined with the information that Sloane had been able to obtain from Vaughn, the person who knew you best, would have made for an incredibly convincing double."

"About a year ago, before Vaughn's abduction, when we knew that Sloane was attempting to rebuild Markovich's device, we were afraid that Sloane might try to trick us with a double of you.  That's when Vaughn and your father came up with the idea of having a list of questions from different people to which only you would know the answer.  There were originally four questions.  Vaughn's was eliminated for what are now obvious reasons."

Sydney's head was reeling from all of this information.  Yet somehow one thing in particular bothered her.  "Why did you send Vaughn to Hong Kong?  You had to bring him back in and, if I were a double, he would have been the easiest for me to deceive."

Kendall looked down at the table, hesitant to answer the question.

"Tell her the truth", Will bit out while staring directly at Kendall.

"I knew we shouldn't have let you in that meeting, Mr. Tippin."

"What Kendall doesn't want to tell you is that Vaughn was sent because he was deemed completely expendable.  We were going on conjecture about what the motives of your apparent double might be.  Other theories involved the kidnapping of another operative to get more information and Sark baiting Vaughn so that he could kill him.  As for kidnapping another operative, by sending Vaughn, they wouldn't give Sloane anything he didn't already have.  As for Sark, Vaughn and Sark's hatred of each other escalated after that night and, once Sark had been liberated, it seemed obvious that he might try to get Vaughn.  It's one of the main reasons that he is in Witness Protection."

"So you just sent him off to be killed! " Sydney leapt up and was heading towards Kendall when Will and Weiss grabbed her.

Kendall rose and stepped back.  "_Agent_ _Bristow, _you are ignoring the last and ultimately correct possibility, that you were actually alive!  That is something that Mr. Vaughn definitely would have wanted to know and he was given _a choice_ as to whether or not to participate."

Weiss finally entered the fray.  "Don't forget to add all the guilt that you and the other senior officers piled on him about what went down at the JTF facility!  Vaughn was racked with guilt over that.  You offered this up to him as an act of atonement for the crime of having been one of Sloane's victims!"

The volume in the room had grown and several agents who had been in the communications area came into the conference room.  They flanked Kendall, as it was obvious that he was close to being attacked.  With his backup in place, Kendall felt emboldened.   "Well, I'm sorry that none of you agreed with my decision regarding this, but whatever happened to the sacrifices of the few for the good of the many?  That's what this work is all about."  "This", he said with a wave of his hand, "isn't getting us anywhere.  It's water over the damn.  What we need now is a plan to take us from here."


	5. Reconciliation

Part 5   -  Reconciliation 

Given the situation, it didn't take much for Dr. Barnett to convince Director Kendall that perhaps it would be best for the group to take a break and reconvene in the morning, when cooler heads might prevail.  As the group exited the conference room, Kendall went over to Agent Jenkins, who had just entered the building, and asked, "So where is he?"

"Where's who?"

"Vaughn."

"I have no idea.  I haven't seen him since lunch."

"I told you to keep an eye on him!"

"No, you ordered us to secure the dock and we did.  He's around somewhere."

"Not this crap again!  Has anyone seen him on the monitors?"

Jenkins went over to the two junior agents who were watching the monitors and came back over to Kendall.  "They haven't seen him since lunch either.  He headed off into the woods and that's the last they've seen him.  Leave him be.  He'll come back on his own.  He always has."

The others had been eyeing the exchange curiously.  Will and Weiss were particularly amused.  Weiss quipped, "I don't know Jenkins.  Vaughn's a pretty good swimmer…"

Jenkins laughed, "Yeah, but the tide's changing.  He might hate Kendall's guts, but he's not suicidal."

"Agent Jenkins…" Kendall began, his anger barely contained.

"Sorry, sir."

"How many men do we have here, Jenkins?"

"Sixteen sir."

"How is it that sixteen of you can't manage to keep tabs on one man!  How many times is this now? Seven?  Eight?"

"He's not going anywhere!  We've kept tabs on the shoreline monitors.  Leave him in peace.  He'll come back when he's good and ready…"

"I want you to send out a team and find him!  Have them review the tapes to see where he might have headed.  When you find him, bring him to Dr. Barnett. "  Then, he turned to Barnett and added, "Do whatever it is you're going to do today because I want him _out of here_ first thing in the morning!"  With that, Kendall stormed off and headed to the main building.  

Judy Barnett turned to Sydney and asked, "Would you like to talk about any of this now or would you like to wait until we find Michael?"

"I'd rather take a break if you don't mind"

"All right then, maybe we can get together after dinner."  With that, Dr. Barnett also headed towards the main building.

Weiss turned to Jenkins, "You're not actually sending a team out, are you?"

"Of course I am", Jenkins replied smiling, "You heard the man.  However, they'll probably start on the south side of the island.  Might be dark by the time they work their way around.  As for the tapes, I think we'll review them in the same order."  He paused for a moment and added, "I'll be pulling the tapes in ten minutes.  The monitors shouldn't be down for more than a few minutes."

"Jenkins, next time your in L.A., I owe you a steak dinner."

"I'll hold you to that."

Will and Weiss led Sydney away.  As they headed toward the house, Weiss said in a voice a bit louder than necessary, "Hey Syd, I'm going to grab some fresh air.  Why don't you join me?  You haven't even really seen the island yet."  

Catching on, Sydney replied, "Sounds great.  I'd like that."

Will begged off, claiming he had some work to do, and headed back towards the conference room.  Weiss and Sydney headed behind the main building where several trails led off into the woods.  Weiss started onto one of the trails heading north, but Sydney hesitated and gave him a questioning look.  Weiss pointed to his watch and motioned for her to follow.  Sydney struck up a conversation as they walked down the narrow path.

"So, he's done this before?"

Weiss answered her without turning, "Yeah, it started the last month he was here. He was getting around better, was going a little stir crazy, and was tired of talking with all the shrinks.  I also think he did it to piss off Kendall.  Either that or he just wanted to get away from him.  Anyway, he usually took off when Kendall was here for one of his visits.  It kind of became a game."

"A game?"

"Yeah, Hide and Seek, CIA-style.  The first four or five times he was actually able to elude the teams they sent out.  After all, the enclave was new and it was a level playing field.  Everyone was treating Vaughn like an invalid or mental defective.  I think it was his way of showing them right where they could stick that notion.  Then, Kendall ordered more monitors installed and it became more difficult.  Jenkins actually found a couple of his hiding places.  He and Jenkins came to a gentlemen's agreement that, if Vaughn really needed to get away, he would go to one of those places and Jenkins would make sure the teams left him alone for as long as possible.  Jenkins told me about them in case he was off-island when Vaughn took off, so that I could do the same or check on him if he didn't come back."

"Jenkins seems like a really good guy."

"He is, Syd.  You can trust him.  Him and Morganetti.  Other than that, they're all Kendall's dogs.  Remember that."  

Weiss checked his watch and cut over to a path heading east.  They walked on in silence for the next few minutes until they came to a rocky bluff overlooking the water.  It was about 50 to 75 feet high.  Sydney looked around.  She even looked up in the trees.  If he was around here, she didn't see him.  Eric Weiss looked out at the water and the islands beyond.  Then, he yelled, "Hey Vaughn, you down there?"

Silence.

"Don't make me lug my fat ass under there to check."

After a moment's hesitation, he heard his reply, "Yeah…"

Sydney went to look over the edge, but Weiss held her back, shaking his head.

"Just so you know, Kendall's sent the dogs out.  They should be here by sunset.  Interested in company?"

"Not particularly"

"You know Barnett's right.  It's better this way.  You owe it to Sydney and yourself to sort this out the best you can." 

Silence.

"Kendall is booting you off the island first thing in the morning."

Silence.

"Okay then.  I'll be heading back now."  With that he took Sydney's arm and led her back off the bluff and over to the edge of the rocky incline about 25 yards back.

As he gestured her down, he told her, "Just keep working your way over.  The bluff over there is just a giant overhang for a ledge right below.  I don't know how he found the damn thing in the first place.  He must have seen it from the water or something."  Then, he turned and started heading back the way they came.

Sydney hesitated for a moment.  She could understand his need to be alone, but one thing kept running through her head. Tomorrow morning.  So, despite her misgivings, she started slowly working her way around the giant boulders and rock slabs that seemed to make up most of this island.  It took her a couple of minutes, but then she could see the edge of the ledge that Eric had been talking about. It looked to be about ten feet deep. As she continued on, she heard Vaughn call out, "I told you, Eric, I'd rather be alone."

As she crawled up onto the ledge, she looked up to see him sitting with his back against the rock wall in the shadow of the bluff.  He was about 15 feet away on the far side of the ledge.  He had his knees drawn up with his arms resting on them and was staring out at the water.

She sat on the edge of the ledge and took a deep breath before saying, "Well, then, it's a good thing I'm not Eric."

He dropped his head back against the wall, closed his eyes, and let out a deep sigh.  Then, he leaned his head forward, kneading his forehead with the base of his palms.

"Listen to me, Vaughn.  We don't have to talk about any of it if you don't want to.  Please just don't shut me out right now.  Please don't send me away."

He looked up and nodded as he gave her a sideways glance.

She crawled further onto the ledge until she was next to him.  She sat down, legs outstretched.  She reached over and grabbed his right hand and pulled it into her lap.  He looked over at her sadly, giving her hand a small squeeze and then went back to looking out over the water as she continued to hold his hand.  They continued holding hands, fingers intertwined, for several minutes, lost in their own thoughts until Sydney finally spoke up.  

"So, Evan Markham, tell me about yourself."

Vaughn looked down, chuckled, and shook his head.  At least she had picked a topic that he didn't mind talking about.  He knew that he probably shouldn't, but it didn't matter.  Evan Markham wouldn't exist in a few days.  "Let's see", he started, "I'm 35, Canadian, and the assistant athletic director at a boarding school outside of Yakima."

"Canadian, eh?"

"Yeah, they had to come up with some plausible reason why the school wouldn't have heard of my stellar collegiate athletic career.  Apparently, I was quite the hockey and soccer star at McGill", he said with a laugh.

"So, how big is this place that they have an _assistant _athletic director?"

"Not very.  It's just a fancy way of saying director-in-training.  The current director is retiring at the end of the year."

"What's the school like?"  

"It's actually quite beautiful.  You can't complain about an area where the main industries are prep schools and apple orchards.  The school itself is along a river and there are parts of the campus that have a beautiful view of Mount Rainier. "

"Sounds wonderful."

"It is actually.  I never would have thought that I would like it as much as I did.  The kids pretty much come from affluent divorced or two-career families in the Seattle area.  The school is very competitive, so they have their days pretty much planned out for them.  I'm a dorm supervisor, too, so we live adjacent to one of the residence halls.  It's amazing to see these kids working so hard, being so driven, at such a young age.  Somehow, it just doesn't seem right.  They don't really get a chance to be kids.  They're so grateful for whatever adult attention they can get.  It makes me feel good that I can be there for them."

"Yeah.  Been there, done that," said Sydney, remembering the vast portions of her childhood that had been spent in places like that.  "They're lucky to have you.  It's nice to feel that somebody actually cares when you're in a situation like that.  How do you spend your days?"

"Mostly coaching and teaching Phys Ed.  I coach boys' hockey, soccer, swimming, and lacrosse.  It's great.  I coached soccer and lacrosse camps this summer.  So far this fall it's been soccer and hockey.  I really have no complaints."

"Except now you're going to be forced to leave."

"Syd, don't start.  It's been fun while it lasted.  Who knows, maybe we'll land something just as nice.  Although it's going to be hard to beat the commute, I'm not looking forward to public transportation."

Sydney gave him a quizzical look.

"I'm not allowed to drive.  I think it's one of the reasons they set it up the way they did.  Next time, we'll probably be in a city.  That should make Alice happier.  Between here and the school, she's been going more than a little stir crazy."

Sydney stiffened at her name, the reminder that he was no longer hers.  Vaughn caught the shift in her attitude and let go of her hand.  Sydney pained at the loss of his touch.  She reached for his hand again and said, "It's Okay, Vaughn.  I understand how things happened.  I'm grateful to her.  She got you out of what I got you into.  I'll always be grateful for that."

He had reached over with his left hand and cupped her cheek.  "_You _didn't get me into anything.  I chose this life long before I met you.  You know that.  I can honestly say that I regret some of the choices that I have made in my life.  However, knowing you, being with you, is not one of them.  Don't ever doubt that."

She stared into his eyes which had taken on a mossy green color in the shade of the bluff.  She couldn't understand how he could still care for her after everything that had happened, especially knowing that she had been off living a relatively normal life.  She started sobbing uncontrollably.

"How can you keep saying that, after everything he did to you and why!"

He pulled her into his arms, her head on his chest, and began rocking her.  "Shshsh", he whispered into her hair, "This is why I didn't want you to know."  "I can handle what he did to me.  I can handle all the looks of pity and disappointment.  This is what I can't handle.  This…  Your guilt for his actions.  He did this to me.  Not you.  Not you.  Him.  Please try to understand that."

He continued cradling her.  Her sobbing had subsided, but her tears continued to flow, as did his.  They held each other for a long while in the fading light before either of them was able to speak.

Vaughn finally broke the silence.  "Listen, Syd, we need to talk about some things before company arrives.  Things were not going to be able to discuss back there.  Things that they won't let me discuss with you anymore."

Sydney pulled herself from his embrace, wiping her face on her sleeve.  "What are you talking about?"

"I've been doing some thinking.  You need to be careful.  If it's one thing that you should take away from all this, it's that the JTF will do anything it deems necessary to get Sloane.  They're panicking and they don't care who they abuse in the process.  If they choose to ignore the Prophecy or go back to believing that the U.S. is the 'greatest power', they'll hang you out as bait to try and flush Sloane out.  Even if he doesn't believe you're the Prophecy Woman now, he's always been obsessed with you.  The JTF might not even tell you that that 's what they're going to do.  If they choose to support that the Prophecy refers to Sloane, they may try to bury you so deep that you'll never be found and I'm not talking witness protection.  In that case, they would be counting on your mother's grief as her motivation to bring him down.  Be wary.  Obviously, you can trust Dixon, Weiss, Will, and Marshall, but beyond that you need to watch your back.  You need to consider your options."

"Options?"

"Yes, options.  Whether you choose to stay and work with them or not."

"Vaughn, what are you saying?  That I should consider resigning and going into witness protection, or just take off?"

"Why not?  We've given our pound of flesh, Syd!  We've given _several_.  Let the battle stay with Sloane, your parents, and the JTF.  They're the ones who brought us into it.  We didn't ask for any of this!  I'm out.  You know now that the CIA wouldn't let me back in even if I wanted it.  The three of them still think you're dead.  You could be safe if Kendall let you go into witness protection.  Even if he doesn't and you took off, the JTF might not come after you.  They'd be afraid of cluing your mother into the fact that you're still alive.  I just can't stand the thought of you being hung out to dry or locked up somewhere so that they can keep your mother grieving.  It may be part of the Prophecy, but you could be free and not interfere with it."

"So, you've become a true believer."

"Haven't you?  There's nothing like a little personal knowledge to clarify your position.  Listen to me, I was on the fence right up to the point that bomb went off in Mexico City.  After that and Il Dire, I no longer believe that he's just some 16th century Italian crackpot that just got lucky with a virus."

  
She'd forgotten about that.  Given everything else that she'd just learned, she'd overlooked what had happened previously.  Of course he'd believe in Rambaldi now.  If not him, then who? Besides Sloane, of course.  She knew that she had to completely believe in it too and accept her role in it.  Whatever that might be.

"Syd, I just want you to consider it.  The decision is obviously yours.  All I know is that your best chance for surviving this is going into relocation or hiding on your own.  There's at least a chance that you'd be safe.  I could live the rest of my life if I thought you were safe.  It may be selfish, but that's where I stand."

Sydney stared at him, not sure how to respond.  Her need for vengeance needed to be answered, but so did his wishes. Just then, they heard the sound of voices and the scuffling of feet above them.  She turned back to him with a small smile and nodded her head.  Suddenly, they heard the voice of one of the agents above call down to them.  "Mister Vaughn, if you're down there, please come up now so that we can escort you back.  Otherwise, we'll have to come down there after you."

Vaughn smiled back at Sydney.  "We're coming."

Once they'd returned, both Sydney and Vaughn were sent to endure a session with Dr. Barnett.  Even though they tried to convince her that they had said everything they needed to say, she would not be dissuaded.  Afterwards, they were allowed to have a late dinner with their friends and Agents Jenkins and Morganetti.  Kendall was conspicuous by his absence.  Jenkins informed them that he had decided to work over in the Security and Communications building and had moved his belongings over to the bunkhouse for the night.  Safety in numbers, as it were.

Jenkins also told Vaughn that Kendall had ordered his departure on the morning boat and that Weiss would be accompanying him back.  It was obvious that Kendall would return when he had regained the upper hand.

By the time dinner had finished, it was very late and Dr. Barnett suggested that they all turn in.  She reminded Vaughn pointedly to take his medication and told him that Dr. Kramer would give him a final check in the morning before he left.  With that, she and Sydney bid the others good night and headed upstairs.

After turning in, Sydney found it impossible to sleep.  Not only was she still suffering the effects of jet lag, but she also couldn't keep her mind off Vaughn and the fact that, come tomorrow, she would probably never see him again.  She replayed his words from earlier over and over in her head.  She still wasn't sure what she was going to do, but she knew he was right.  She needed to be careful.

It was well past midnight when she crept downstairs.  She knew she shouldn't, but she couldn't help herself.  She needed to see him, to be with him, just one last time.  She knew that he would never come to her, not given the circumstances.  She stealthily moved across the darkened downstairs and into his room.  At least she had not lost this ability over the past two years. 

Once inside his room, she moved quietly towards the bed.  The light from the near full moon filtered through the window, illuminating his silhouette.  He was sound asleep on his side with his face turned towards the window.  That he was able to sleep didn't surprise her, knowing the medication he was on and the events of the past few days.  She sat on the edge of the bed and carefully examined his moonlit features, storing them for the future.

She thought about getting up and leaving before he awoke, but her need for him was primal.  To her, it had only been a few days since their last intimate encounter.  She was still addicted to him.  Every fiber of her being was crying out for his touch.

She reached over and ran her fingers through his hair, noting that he still wore it exactly the same as he always had.  She caressed his cheek with the back of her hand and he began to stir. She continued to caress him until he slowly started coming to his senses, leaning into her touch.

"Syd…"

"Hey"

He finally came to full consciousness, shaking off the last bits of sleep.  He sat up suddenly in the bed, causing the sheets falling down around his waist.  "Syd?  Are you okay? What's going on?"

"I'm fine.  I just needed to see you."

"Syd, you shouldn't be here…"

"Vaughn, I know that, but I am.  You're leaving tomorrow morning and I'll probably never see you again.  I know that I'm not being fair.  I'll leave if you want me to, but I'm begging you to let me stay.  Please, I just need to be held."

"You don't understand.  I don't know that I can do just that.  Not when it's you.  Being married should be enough, but it's not.  Because I couldn't control myself, I've already brought two more innocent people into this.  I won't risk a third.  Not even for you.  I couldn't let that happen.  Not again."

"We won't let that happen."

"Syd, you don't even remember the highlights of the past two years, much less the more mundane aspects of your life, and I certainly didn't come prepared for anything like this."

 "Do you trust me?"

"What?  Syd…"

"Ssshhh. Trust me. Don't think. Just feel.  We'll be safe. I promise."  

With that, she leaned over and gave him a feather-light kiss on the lips.  At first, he hesitated, but as she intensified the kiss and brought her arms around his neck, he relented.  He could feel the floodgates open on emotions that he had long since dammed up inside himself.  He had been able to keep himself in check during their previous encounters, but this was different.  They both wanted, needed, this so much.

The first time she had been ripped from him without warning.  Now, they both saw it coming.  This time he would take nothing for granted.  He would memorize every feature and savor every sensation.

He could feel her chest warm, up against him, through the thin cotton tank she was wearing.  He could even feel her nipples harden, begging for his touch.  He brought his arms around her, tangling his fingers in her hair.  

With his return of her ardor, she leaned into him further, causing them to fall onto the bed.  Their lips joined and their hands roved in a choreography innate to them alone.  After a few minutes, they broke their contact only briefly to rid themselves of the final barriers between them and then they returned to the dance, each of them consumed by their world of skin and breath and hair.  

She could feel his hardening length against her stomach.  As much as she wanted to be joined with him, she knew that he was right.  They couldn't risk the repercussions.  She broke their kiss, straddling his thighs and moving on to devour his neck and his collarbone.  With her hands, she gently kneaded and massaged his well-defined pecs, paying special attention to his stiffened nubs.

The fiery sensations she was creating elicited a moan from him as she made her way down his body.  His hands were entwined in her hair and his breathing grew more ragged as her hands moved onto the hard planes of his abdomen and her mouth lavished his chest.  As she blazed a trail of wet kisses down his stomach, her hands found his pulsating member.  It jumped at her touch.

She took him in her hands, running one hand up and down his engorged shaft while the fingertips of the other ringed his tip.  This elicited yet another moan from his lips.  With that, she lowered her mouth to him, encasing him with her velvet lips while one of her hands gently cradled and massaged his balls.  

"Oh God, Syd…."

She started out slowly, working him in and out of her mouth and throat, pausing every now and then to pull up and massage the sensitive edge of his tip with her lips and tongue. These were greeted with gasps of pleasure from Vaughn.  Then, she brought him back into her throat and quickened the pace, bringing her hands up to massage his chest while her thumbs circled and flicked his nubs.  This drove him over the edge and he pulled her to him as he bucked his hips off of the bed.  Every muscle in his body tensed as he came in her throat and he cried out her name over and over.

She rode out his orgasm, gently milking him, causing him to shudder further.  Then, she released him from her mouth and planted gentle kisses up the length of his body.  She paused for a few moments to lay her head on his chest and listen to the frenzied beating of his heart.  He was just returning to his senses when she continued her journey reaching his lips and gazing into his eyes which were full of awe and love.  She kissed him deeply and he returned it, taking charge of the dance. 

Vaughn rolled Sydney onto her back, pausing to run his hands through her hair, splaying it across the pillow.  He looked into her dark chocolate eyes, silently asking permission to continue.  The intensity that he found there gave him his answer and he lowered his head to her neck, to a particularly sensitive spot that she had behind her ear at the base of her scalp.  She drew in a deep breath as he lavished attention there, while his hands moved onto her breasts, gently kneading them as he worked her nipples between his thumbs and middle fingers.

He lit a trail with his lips and tongue down and around her clavicle and up and over to the other side of her neck. She purred as he found and worked that same spot on the opposite side of her neck.  Then, he brought his mouth to her breasts, lavishing her areola with his tongue and nipping gently at her nipples with his lips and teeth.  The sensations were driving her wild and she brought her hands to his head, massaging his scalp and pushing down slightly, encouraging him to continue his journey down her body.

He took her cue, raising himself up between her legs, and kissed between her breasts.  Then, he ran his hands down her body, noting that it was softer than he had remembered.  It didn't bother him though, as he had always felt that she had had to work herself too hard physically.  He found that the extra curves pleased him and spent some time kissing and caressing them.  He took comfort in the fact that, whatever her life had been, it had not required her to maintain her body as a weapon.

Running his hands down the backs of her thighs, he raised up her knees and positioned his shoulders beneath them.  Then, he lowered his mouth to her hot, moist center.  When he stared flicking her clit with his tongue and nipping it with his lips, she let out a little yelp.  She ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer.  With his hands on her waist, he picked up the pace and began darting his tongue in and out of her, running his tongue up and over her clit with every stroke.  She started panting and he knew she must be close.  He pulled away from her and she whimpered at his loss.

He repositioned himself on his right side and brought his left hand up to replace his mouth.  Then, while working his fingers within her and massaging her clit with his thumb, he brought his mouth back to her breasts, gently nipping at her with his lips and teeth.  Within a minute, the combined sensations drove Sydney over the edge and he could feel her tighten around his fingers as she let go a strangled cry.  He brought her down slowly, continuing a tender massage with his hand.  As her trembling subsided, he wrapped his arms around her and drew her into him, kissing her passionately as she sighed into his mouth.

They pleasured one another several times, making mental road maps of each other's bodies for the time to come.  When they were spent, they clung to each other fiercely as, if they could, they would have crawled into each other's skin.


	6. Transitions

Part 6   -   Transitions

It was almost six o'clock in the morning when Sydney crept back upstairs from Vaughn's room.  She had slipped from his embrace while he slept, exhausted from their activities.   Although Sydney didn't really give a damn whether anyone found out that she had been with him, she didn't really feel like discussing it in sessions with Judy Barnett.  So, she decided to get back to her room next door before the doctor awoke.  As for Kendall, he was visiting his buddies in the bunkhouse.  The only ones left were Will, Weiss, Jenkins and Morganetti.  She didn't anticipate any trouble from them.

Once safely back in her room, Sydney contemplated whether to shower or head back to bed.  She too was exhausted, but didn't want to risk sleeping through Vaughn's departure.  As she headed towards her bathroom, she paused for a moment to enjoy his scent which lingered on her skin.  She wasn't sure how she was going to make it through this morning, but she knew that she needed to hold it together for the both of them.  Neither one of them wanted it to happen, but there really was no other option.

After showering and dressing in jeans and a sweater, she could hear someone downstairs in the kitchen.  She headed down to find Jenkins in the kitchen making coffee.

"Good morning, Agent Bristow.  You're up early.  Can I get you some coffee?"

"No thanks.  I prefer tea.  Please call me Sydney."

"Very well then", said Jenkins as he pulled out a kettle, filled it with water and set it on the stove.  "The name's Tom if you've forgotten, but we should stick to the formalities around our beloved leader.  He doesn't like me getting too familiar with the 'guests'."

Sydney nodded as she pulled a mug and tea bag from the cabinet.  "I want to thank you for what you did yesterday, giving Vaughn and I a chance to talk privately."

"Not a problem.  It's a strange situation that we've got going on around here, treating fellow agents almost as if they were inmates.  I understand the need for all the security given what we're up against, but that doesn't mean that we can't show each other a little common decency."

Sydney could see why Vaughn and Weiss trusted this man.  Jenkins gave a formidable appearance with his size and bulk.  He appeared to be in his mid-forties and his strawberry blonde hair had started fading to silver in some locations.  He looked a bit like an aging linebacker and she didn't doubt that he could handle himself should the need arise.  However, his demeanor showed that the years spent on the job hadn't hardened him off like so many others.

Soon, the kettle started whistling and Sydney quickly pulled it off the stove so as to not disturb the others.  Despite her efforts, she could hear movement in the rooms nearest the kitchen.  Within minutes, she and Jenkins were joined by Morganetti.  

Morganetti bounded into the kitchen.  He was much younger and smaller than Jenkins, Mediterranean-looking in his early thirties and no taller than Sydney.  He was dressed in running gear.  He greeted them both and then told Jenkins that he'd be back within the hour to make breakfast.  After he left, Sydney and Jenkins continued their conversation.

"I've been meaning to ask you, Tom", Sydney started, "how you got such a great deal here and how come you and Morganetti get to stay in the 'big house' instead of over yonder with the troops."  Sydney nodded towards the bunkhouse through the big picture window by the kitchen table.

"Well, it's pretty simple really.  I ran the previous enclave on Bainbridge for about 5 years.  I was a field agent before that.  That, plus I'm from this area originally, Friday Harbor over on San Juan Island.  I pretty much know these islands like the back of my hand, so it was an obvious fit.  As for Morganetti, he was my assistant at Bainbridge too.  I had finally gotten him broken in over there when they decided to close up shop.  So, I brought him along.  Truth is, I can't stand my own cooking.  Since this is long-term for us, we get the better digs."

Sydney nodded and then something occurred to her.  "So you met Vaughn before all this?"

"Twice actually.  First time was about four years ago when he was part of a debrief team for a Chinese defector.  The other was a little more than two years ago when he escorted a young couple and their son up to Bainbridge.  The wife was a former Russian agent."

"The Caplans"

"Yeah", Jenkins nodded.  "They're good people.  Hard to believe that she was a Russian agent, he was NSA and knew, and they still somehow managed to work it out.  I've actually kept in contact with them.  They have another child now, you know.  A little girl.  I believe she's named after you, Sydney Anne."

"Really," Sydney beamed.  This was the one of the few pieces of good news that she'd had aside from Will's survival.  She couldn't believe the Caplans had named their daughter after her.  "How old is she?"

"She just turned a year old.  Vaughn is, or I guess I should say was, her godfather."

Sydney shook her head in amazement.  Since Jenkins had known Vaughn before, Sydney decided to press on with a few questions.  "Tom, how bad was it when Vaughn got here?"

Jenkins gave her a thoughtful look.  "He's fine now.  Why do you want to go revisit that?"

"Because I'm not 'revisiting'.  I just got here.  I need to know.  I need to understand.  I also think that you're one of the few people who can give me an objective answer."

Jenkins nodded in understanding.  "I don't know exactly what they told you, but when he first got here, it was pretty bad.  He was down about twenty pounds from where he is now.  He was all splinted up.  Both of his legs and his right arm were fractured in multiple places.  It was quite the effort to get him up from the dock.  I don't know that much about the other stuff, but it seemed like he wasn't there at all.  I don't even think he knew where he was for the first couple of weeks.  He didn't even vaguely resemble the man I'd met previously."

He paused before continuing, "But then, he started coming out of it.  You could tell that he was noticing things, actually seeing you.  _She_ got him to start eating and drinking on his own.  _She_ kept at him, in a good way, not like the shrinks and the doctors.  She helped him come around."

"_She_ has a name", Sydney said as she looked down at the floor.

"I know, but he told me how it was with the two of you.  It can't be easy for you, the way things ended up."

"It's not, but I'm coming to accept it, especially seeing what she did for him."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah", Sydney admitted sadly.  "He'll be safe with Alice.  I can't exactly say that that would be the case if he were to stay with me."

Jenkins nodded.  "So you don't hold it against your father?"

"What?" Sydney responded, confused.

"Oh, I guess that they left that part out…"

"Why don't _you_ fill me in…"

Jenkins shifted uncomfortably.  "After Vaughn came out of it and started talking, Kendall was going to ship Alice off-island.  However, your father intervened.  He had noticed that she had already started to do physical therapy with Vaughn.  That part of his recovery wasn't exactly a priority with the JTF.  They just needed him talking about what had happened.  Your dad convinced them that not only would she be able to support him so that they could get the intel quicker, but they wouldn't have to hassle clearing a physical therapist to come out and help him.  He knew that they had no such plans, but he also knew that they weren't about to admit that point-blank.  Alice had him down to a knee brace and a wrist splint by the time they left two and a half months later.  I tell you that was no mean feat.  Look at him now.  Except for that little incident the other night, you wouldn't even know anything had happened."

Sydney just shook her head.  Part of her just wanted to hate Alice and convince herself that Vaughn was better off with her, but with every new piece of information came the realization that he would indeed be safer, maybe even happier, in Alice's care.

Just then, the door to Will and Weiss' room opened and Will Tippin struggled into the kitchen, desperately making his way to the coffee maker.  Once he had his hot, black coffee in hand, he greeted both Jenkins and Sydney before greedily sipping at the piping hot brew.

"Rough night, Tippin?"  Jenkins asked, bemused.

"You have no idea.  I forgot what a horrible snorer Weiss was from the last time that I came up for a visit."

"I know.   We could hear him clear over in our room.  He really should get that looked at, if not for himself, for all those who have to endure him."

Sydney started examining the floor, hoping that that's all that anybody had heard.

Jenkins excused himself to go down to the dock to make sure that they had started to prep the boat for the morning supply run, leaving Will and Sydney to themselves.

"_Morning, Syd_", Will drew out as he smiled and cocked his head to the side, giving her one of those looks.  

Sydney looked up, but had trouble meeting his eyes.  "Hey."

"It's okay, Sweetie.  I don't think anybody heard anything but me and the only reason I did was because I was already awake from the lumber mill."

Sydney flushed a bit and let out a deep breath.  She was about to say something when Will interrupted her.

"Syd, you don't have to say or justify anything to me.  These are difficult circumstances anyway you look at it.  I'm just glad that the two of you got to say goodbye properly, although I don't think that was exactly what Barnett meant by 'closure'."

Sydney's cheeks were in full bloom, but she was grateful that her friend was letting her off relatively easy.  She only had one request.  "Please don't say anything to Vaughn."

"I wouldn't dream of it.'

"Thanks", she said as they embraced.

Within minutes, Jenkins and Morganetti had returned, Weiss had materialized, and Dr. Barnett had joined them.  They were just sitting down to breakfast when Vaughn finally emerged, showered, dressed, and packed.  

"I was wondering when you were going to join us", mused Jenkins.  "The boat leaves in half an hour.  I thought that I was going to have to come in there after you."

"Sorry", Vaughn said sheepishly as he caught Sydney's eye, "I guess the last couple of days finally caught up with me."  Sydney slid over on the window seat in the breakfast nook to make room for him.  He sat down next to her, grabbing her hand under the table and giving it a gentle squeeze.  

After breakfast, Vaughn was checked out one last time by Drs. Barnett and Kramer and cleared to leave.  He and Weiss had just come back to the main house so that he could say his final farewells to Will and Sydney when Kendall came in.

Kendall was in particularly good spirits.  "Well, Mr. Vaughn, I just came over to say goodbye and thank you for your cooperation in recovering Agent Bristow."  He extended his hand toward Vaughn.  Vaughn hesitated and the others glared at Kendall suspiciously. 

Kendall withdrew his hand and continued, "Listen, Vaughn, I know that we've had our differences, but that's in the past.  I appreciate the work that you've done and the risks that you've taken to do it.  I've just gotten off the phone with Justice and we've set up your relocation for Saturday.  Your contact at the school will take care of everything.  Agent Weiss will escort you back to the rendez-vous with your contact.  Please give my regards to Mrs. Vaughn and apologize for the inconvenience of the move.  Good luck, son."  He extended his hand again and Vaughn, though inwardly cringing, sensed it would be best for everyone if he simply accepted the gesture.  He shook Kendall's hand with a slight grimace on his face.

Kendall then turned to Will and Sydney.  "We have a conference call in a few minutes over in Communications with top brass from CIA, FBI, and NSA to review the latest intel and strategize our next move."  Then, turning to Sydney, "Marcus Dixon will be patched in from LA.  Say your goodbyes and come over immediately."  With that, he turned and left, heading towards the other building.

Will extended his hand to Vaughn, but then went to embrace him.  "Take care of yourself, man.  I promise that we'll keep an eye out for Syd.  Go take care of yourself and your family.  Go have a life.  We're all jealous."  

"Thanks, Will.  Good luck."

Then, Will broke the embrace and grabbed Weiss by the arm and led him outside.

Vaughn turned to Sydney.  "I guess this is it", he whispered.  He could see the tears that had already started to fall.  He cupped her cheek with his hand, but she fell into him, embracing him fiercely.

"I want to go down to the dock with you", she managed to eke out.

"That's not a good idea.  You don't have the time.  Plus, if you came down, I don't think I could actually get on that boat."

She looked up at him to see tears in his eyes.  "I love you, Vaughn."

"I love you, too.  Please, don't ever doubt that I loved you and that part of me always will, no matter what."  He paused and swallowed hard before continuing, "But it's better this way.  Sloane won't be able to use me or what he learned about us against you if he finds out your alive.  My job now is to keep my family safe."

"Keep yourself safe too."

"I'll promise if you will", he said pointedly.

She nodded and then he lifted her chin up and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips.  Then, he broke the kiss, gave her a sad smile, picked up his duffle and headed out the door, refusing to look back.  She saw him meet Weiss just outside the house and the two men hurriedly headed toward the stairs to the dock.

Will came in to get Sydney.  Seeing the state she was in, he simply hugged her and whispered, "It's okay, Sweetie.  We'll get you through this.  I promise."  After a minute or two, he spoke again.  "We better get over there before Kendall sends some of his boys over here to get us."  Sydney nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes, and the two of them headed toward the other building.

Right before she entered the building, Sydney turned and bolted.  She sped off behind the main house, furiously running down one of the woodland paths.  She could hear Will calling after her, and then Kendall, but she kept running, hoping that they would just leave her be.  Her lungs and her legs were burning, obviously unused to the exertion after all this time, but she couldn't stop.  She was a bit disoriented and hoped that she was picking the right paths.  Several minutes later she came to a stop on the same high bluff that she had been on yesterday.  Winded, she sat down on the edge, silently praying that what Eric had said was true.

Vaughn and Weiss watched the island as the boat pulled away from the dock.  Weiss could see the pain and concern etched in his friend's features.  "She'll be okay, Mike.  Will, Dixon, and I will make sure of it.  Instead of one handler, she'll have three."

"She shouldn't have any."

Weiss looked down, knowing he was right.  Besides, what was there to say.  This sucked and they all knew it.  They also knew that, given the situation, none of them had any choice.  

The boat slowly made its way around the island, heading them back in the direction of the naval air station.  Vaughn couldn't take his eyes away from the enclave.

"Promise me something, Eric"

"Anything"

"Don't let them push her around.  Make sure that she understands all of her options and support her, whatever decision she makes."

Eric Weiss nodded.  "Done.  But I don't exactly think you have to worry about Sydney getting pushed around.  She's pretty good at fending for herself if you haven't noticed."

"That was before.  It's been two years and so much has happened..."

"Two years nothing.  Consciously or subconsciously, Sydney's managed to survive the past two years.  The CIA may not have been looking too hard for her, but Sloane sure as hell was.  She's going to be fine.  She won't let Kendall and his friends push her around."

"I hope you're right."

"No hoping involved.  Just look up over there.  She's already bucking him."

Vaughn looked up to see Sydney standing on the bluff about a hundred yards away.  For a moment, his breath caught in his throat as he relived an all too familiar nightmare of another cliff on another shore.  However, once he took in her body language, he calmed himself.  They locked in on each other and he said under his breath, "Good girl, you show him who's in charge."

They continued to watch each other until they were out of sight.

Sydney was escorted back by several agents who had been sent to retrieve her.  They had arrived moments after the yacht had disappeared behind a neighboring island.  She put up no resistance and was back at the Communications building about an hour after she ran for the bluff.

Once there, she met a chagrined Kendall followed by a rather cowed Will Tippin coming out of the conference room.  "Ah, Agent Bristow, how nice of you to join us now that the tele-conference is _over.  _Shall I tell you went on or _do you care_?"

"I just needed some time to myself. I'm all yours now."

"Mr. Tippin, please go over to the main house and let Dr. Barnett know that Ms. Bristow will be joining her shortly for another session.  Agent Bristow and I need to have a little chat."  

Kendall motioned Sydney to the conference room.  Will stood his ground momentarily until Sydney let him know with a tilt of her head that he should go ahead.  She could take care of Kendall herself.

She and Kendall sat down in the conference room across from one another, each fixing the other with an icy glare.  Kendall finally started at a low growl, "Ms. Bristow, I just got rid of one problem and I'll be damned if I'm going down that road again.  There's a lot of work ahead of us and we are going to require your _full_ and _complete_ cooperation, do you understand or do I need to make things clearer?"

"Do I get any say in all this?!"

"Maybe you would have, had you actually decided to come to the meeting!"

"Vaughn was leaving.  You could have at least waited until later today to have the meeting!"

"Excuse me, but I thought you and your old boyfriend would have gotten all of your goodbyes out of the way _last night_."

Sydney shot a horrified glance at Kendall.

"I have no idea what you are talking about", Sydney bit out.

"Oh, don't you now.  You no doubt noticed all the monitors out there", he said gesturing to the other room.  "Some of them are for the main house.  None of them in the bedrooms, mind you, but in most of the common areas.  Some even have infrared sensors."  

With that, he picked up a remote from the table and turned on a video monitor at the end of the conference table.  Immediately, an image of Vaughn opening the door to his room filled the screen.  The date and time code on the video read "10/5/04 10:57 PM".  Then, the video fast-forwarded, lights turned out, and then someone else appeared with an IR halo around them.  The video slowed and, although the features were somewhat obscured, it was obvious that it was her.  The date and time stamp read "10/6/04 12:37 AM".  Again, the time elapse on the video sped forward until it slowed at 5:49 AM.  Within a minute, Sydney emerged.  The IR halo was gone, replaced by the harsh light of the new day, her features clearly defined.  Kendall then shut off the monitor.

"Listen, Ms. Bristow, I don't particularly care about your and Vaughn's extra-curricular activities.  What I do care about is getting Sloane and not having to battle you every inch of the way.  I know that you have many friends in the JTF and that they will follow your lead.  What I'm looking for is a little cooperation.  With that, we can forget that this little peccadillo ever happened."

Sydney was incredulous.  "You're _blackmailing_ me?  Why would I care if anyone saw me going into Vaughn's room?"

"It's obvious that you still care a great deal about him.  I would think that you wouldn't want to cause him any more pain.  It would be a shame if his lovely wife were to see that tape."

Sydney felt nauseous, but retained her composure.  "Not even you would stoop that low."

"To help catch the world's most wanted terrorist?  In a heartbeat.  But I also believe that we can help each other too.  It doesn't have to be like this.  Yes, I can ruin Vaughn's marriage if I choose to do so, but I can also assure him of a very comfortable existence."

"What are you talking about?"

"Did Vaughn have a chance to tell you what his life was like in protection, before we called him back?"

Sydney nodded unsure of where this was going.  

"Pretty nice, eh?  You have your father to thank for that.  He called a former CIA colleague who now works in Justice and called in a few favors to make sure Vaughn got the best placement possible.  Your father's not here to do that again, but I am.  You cooperate and I can guarantee a placement straight out of heaven, you cross me and I'll make his life a living hell.  Do we understand each other?"

  



	7. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Part 7   -   One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Eric Weiss and Michael Vaughn did not speak much for the rest of the boat ride, nor for the quick plane ride back to Seattle after that.  It was obvious that Vaughn needed some time to sort things through and his friend realized that friendly banter was not in order.  However, once they began the two and a half hour drive from Seattle to Yakima, enough time had elapsed since their departure from the island that Eric Weiss was able to coax a conversation out of his friend.

Keeping his eyes on the highway in front of him, Eric asked, "So Mike, who's this contact that we're going to meet?"

"Probably the only person doing cartwheels over this relocation," Vaughn quipped.

Weiss gave his friend a quizzical look, "What?"

Vaughn shook his head and chuckled.  "His name is Brad Mueller.  He's a US Marshal undercover at the school as one of the campus security guards."

"They have a US Marshal guarding you?"

"Apparently they don't believe that a broken-down former CIA agent can take care of himself."

"You're far from broken-down.  He _knows_ your ex-CIA?"

"No.  I was talking about his superiors.  He thinks that I'm a witness to some big drug cartel whacking back in LA.  Lone, innocent-bystander sort of thing.  I think his placement was only supposed to be temporary though, until they were sure that we hadn't been traced somehow.  He's been going insane.  I think he was anticipating a little more action when he decided to become a marshal.  He's in his late twenties and chomping at the bit to get into the thick of things.  A sleepy little boarding school in Yakima isn't doing it for him."

Weiss started laughing, trying to imagine a US Marshal scoping out the kids at the school, trying to determine which were a threat.  "Poor guy, I don't imagine he's got much of a social life out there in the boonies either."

It was Vaughn's turn to laugh.  "No, but that doesn't keep Alice from trying.  She likes having him around.  He's one of the few people at the school allowed to keep a firearm.  We both have panic buttons, but she likes to keep him as close as possible."  He paused shaking his head before continuing, "_She_ doesn't even think that I can take care of us.  Consequently, she's always inviting him over to dinner, trying to fix him up with whatever eligible female that she can find.  It's pretty funny actually.  I don't think he minds though.  At least he gets a decent meal out of the deal."

"So Evan, what's your wife's name these days?"

"It's still Alice.  After meeting her, I think the folks in Justice realized that there was just no way that she wasn't going to screw up and let her real name slip.  She's such a horrible liar.  Anyway, it's me that they'd be looking for.  There's no reason to believe that she was compromised in any way.  Unfortunately, I think that might change now.  I can't see them letting her have the same first name twice in a row."

Vaughn paused for a moment, rubbing his temples.  "God, she's going to freak when she finds out.  She was finally settling in, relaxing, and making some friends.  She's even started working on the baby's room.  Now, I get to tell her that she gets to start all over again.  I knew she wasn't cut out for this kind of life.  I still can't believe that I messed up her life so badly."

"Mike, you didn't pull her into this.  Will, I, and the JTF did.  Don't blame yourself for things over which you hand no control."

"You might have brought her into this, but you didn't get her pregnant."  Vaughn shook his head, still unable to believe how he had drawn the one untainted individual in his life into this horrible mess.   

"You know that she wanted to go with you before that.  On some level, she knew what she was getting into when you guys hooked up again.  I just can't believe the luck of it all.  I mean, one night, what are the chances?  What was she thinking, going unprotected?"

Vaughn started to get agitated with his friend's flippant tone, "Eric, please remember that this is _my wife_ we're talking about...  She wasn't the only one who wasn't thinking.  Plus, it's not like there was a drugstore around the corner that night.  I think we need to change the subject."

"Okay, buddy, okay", Eric countered soothingly, "I didn't mean any disrespect.  I just hate to see you blame yourself for something you had so little control over.  We all own a piece of this".

Vaughn nodded a silent acceptance of his friend's apology.

It was late afternoon when they pulled up to a scenic overlook by the Yakima River where they were met Brad Mueller driving a Jeep with a Cascades Academy logo on it.  When Vaughn and Weiss exited the car, he came over to them and shook Vaughn's hand.  "Hey Evan, how did the trial go?  Are you done testifying?"

"Yeah, it's all over.  They told me that they're relocating us again though, just to be sure that we're safe."

Brad Mueller nodded, "Yeah, I got a call on that, but I didn't tell Alice.  They specifically told me to let you tell her.  She's been going _out of her mind_.  She must have called me twenty times over the past few days.  I still can't believe that they just pulled you out with no warning like that and didn't even let you say good-bye to her.  By the way, the cover story for the school is that your dad is real sick back home.  You're being given Family Leave starting at the end of the week."

Vaughn nodded and then turned to Eric Weiss.  "Brad, this is John Coulter.  He is one of the DEA agents that was working on the case".  Then, he turned to his best friend somberly saying, " Well, John, thank you for everything.  You'll never know how much your support has meant to me during all of this."  

With that, he went to shake Weiss' hand, but the larger man pulled him into a bear hug.  In a strained voice, Weiss stated, "We couldn't have done any of it without you.  Go and have a good life.  Enjoy being a dad."  After a few moments, he let his friend go while a confused Brad Mueller looked on.

"I guess the two of you must have gotten pretty close during the investigation" was all the marshal could say.

Then, Evan Markham and Brad Mueller both said farewell, hopped into the school's Jeep and headed back to Cascades Academy.

Alice Markham bolted out the front door as soon as she heard the Jeep come up the gravel drive to the Tudor-style residence hall.  She may have been almost six months pregnant, but she had been holding her breath for over four days, ever since she found the note on the kitchen counter.  She ran down the steps and into her husband's arms as soon as he exited the car.  She was near tears as she cried, "Oh Thank God, Michael!  I was so worried.  Where were you?  They wouldn't tell me anything!"

She felt her husband stiffen in her arms at the use of his given name and she realized her mistake.  "Oh my God, I'm sorry.  I forgot…", she whispered.  She looked over at Brad Mueller who had also caught her gaffe.  

"Ssshhh, it's all right.  Let's go inside and I'll tell you what I can," he whispered in return as he led her inside.  Before entering the house, he turned to Brad and thanked him for the ride.

"No problem, Evan.  I'll talk to you tomorrow about Saturday."  Then, Mueller got into his truck and drove away.

Once inside, Michael guided them to the sofa in the living room.  Alice was a flurry of questions and concern.  Why had they called him back?  Where had he been?  Hadn't they promised that something like this would never happen?  Was he all right?  He looked exhausted.  Did he remember to take his medication?  Why didn't he call?!

Michael tried to soothe her and answer her questions the best he could.  It was a one-time thing.  An old contact had resurfaced and needed to be extracted, one that would only come in with him.  There were no other such contacts.  He was fine, just a bit tired.  Yes, he had taken his medication.  There had been no safe way to call her.

"Are you absolutely sure that they won't bother us again, Michael?"

He paused, knowing the answer, but half-hoped that it wasn't true.  "Yes.  They don't need me any more.  They have _exactly_ what they want."

"Good.  I never want to hear about the CIA or the JTF again."

He knew that he had to tell her.  He braced himself for her reaction. "There's one catch.  To make sure that I can't be traced, we have to move again."

"What?!  We've finally just settled.  This can't be happening!  When?"

"Saturday."

Alice was stupefied.  "Saturday!  There's no way that we can move by Saturday.  Just think of all the packing that needs to be done."

Michael Vaughn shook his head, realizing that she just didn't get it.  "We won't be packing anything except for a suitcase.  We're supposed to be going home to be with my sick father.  We have to start over, just like when we came here."

"Damn it!  Not again!  Is this really necessary?  Is there any reason to believe that there's a problem?"

"No, they just want to make sure that the two of us and the baby are safe", he said as he gently touched Alice's burgeoning belly and looked into her face with the creases of concern evident in his.

That took the wind out of the argurment.  Alice quickly removed her husband's hand from her stomach, taking it between her own, and quickly said, "Of course, I…I'm sorry.  I just can't believe that we have to go through this again!"

"I know.  I'm sorry too.  Look on the bright side, maybe we'll end up in a city next time.  You won't feel so isolated."

She nodded and took Michael's face in her hands, touching her forehead to his.  "I don't know what I was thinking.  The past few days I've done nothing but worry sick about you and then the first thing I do when you come home is to argue with you over keeping us safe.  Why don't you stretch out on the couch and I'll go work on dinner."  Then, she pulled him into a quick kiss before getting up and heading to the kitchen.

Michael Vaughn sat back on the sofa, pondering the events of the last few days.  He tried to convince himself that he should be happy.  She had been found safe and sound and was now in a secure location.  He had gotten to be with her, talk to her, and hold her.  He had gotten the goodbye that he'd been deprived of two years ago.  Then why was it that it felt like someone had ripped a hole in his chest?  It hurt almost as much now as it did when he had at last convinced himself she was dead. He finally allowed exhaustion overwhelm him.  He laid back on the sofa, closed his eyes and drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next morning after Alice Markham sent her husband off to work, she settled down with a cup of tea at the dining table in their small faculty apartment.  She originally had intended to make a list of items which she wanted from this life that would fit into a suitcase.  It was hard to believe how much they had accumulated in just five months and how attached she had become to it.  However, her mind kept drifting to the previous evening and her husband's return.

She had come back when dinner was ready to find him crashed out on the couch.  It had taken quite an effort to rouse him and she felt a little bit guilty for doing so.  It was obvious that he was exhausted.  They ate dinner in relative silence.  He barely spoke two words.  So, she updated him on everything that had gone on while he was away.  After dinner, she reminded him, as she always did, to take his medication.  Then, she told him to head to bed while she cleaned up.  He nodded his appreciation, kissed her on the forehead, and headed off to their room.  He was out like a light by the time she finished the dishes.

This morning, when she woke up, she found him staring at the picture of the two of them in the only wedding present which they had received, an antique silver picture frame.  Their wedding had been a hurried affair.  A justice of the peace had done the honors right there on the island right before they were whisked into protection.  Jack Bristow had taken care of the paperwork for them.  She had been amazed that Will Tippin and Eric Weiss had been able to come up from LA so quickly.  After the ceremony, while she was helping Michael pack, she had found the frame peeking out from his bag.  When she had asked him about it, he had said that it had been a gift from Will.  She was delighted.  He seemed less so, but she had chalked it up to all the changes of the past few days. 

He had originally decided to leave the CIA, but not go into protection.  She was to have returned to her life in L.A..  However, when he had found out that she was pregnant and adamant about having the child, he changed his mind about protection and asked her to marry him.

This morning, he had sat in the armchair in the corner of their room, staring at the photo and fingering the frame.  She had pretended to continue sleeping.  He looked so forlorn.  She supposed that he felt guilty about moving them once again.  

He had warned her what this life would be like, and he had been right.  She had offered to go with him into protection, before they had gotten back together and then found out about her pregnancy.  He had told her no, that he wasn't sure what he was going to do, but that he did not want that kind of life for her.  She had sacrificed too much for him already.  However, she couldn't stand the thought of him going into protection alone with no friends and no past.  What scared her even more though was the thought of him not going into protection at all.  She hadn't been sure, but she had had the feeling that he and Jack Bristow were contemplating some vengeful odyssey, one that would surely get him killed.

She didn't regret her decisions.  She loved him with all her heart, even though she knew his would never completely be hers.  However, watching him with that picture, she didn't doubt the depth of his emotion for her.  

Although the first few months had been awkward between them given the circumstances surrounding their marriage, the last couple of months had been great.  They had both relaxed a little and were starting to enjoy their new life together.  She had finally adjusted to the quiet life of a small academic community, having made several friends among the female teachers and wives of the other male faculty.  He loved his new job, sports, all day every day, and had ended up being surprisingly good at interacting with teenagers.  They went for long walks in the evening when the weather allowed and had started talking about the future with their child.  

Even their romantic life had taken a turn for the better; what there was of it.  She had been horribly sick during the first trimester.  That, combined with the stress of relocation, had made it virtually impossible for her to have thoughts of that nature.  He didn't seem to mind though.  She supposed that he was still reeling from the situation himself.  However, when she had started feeling better, there had been moments of true affection between the two of them.  She almost felt like she had the old Michael back, the pre-Rita/Sydney Michael.  They had found each other again and life was good.

She knew the relocation didn't have to change anything, that it was just another hurdle.  After seeing him there in the chair, tearing himself up over it, she had decided that she would do whatever she could to make it easier for him.

After dinner that night, the two of them went for a long stroll around the campus, taking in the sites one last time.  Tomorrow would be consumed with getting things in order at work, packing, and saying casual goodbyes.  The night was clear and the brisk fall air felt good.  When they came home, they found Brad Mueller on their doorstep.

"Hey, Evan.  Hey, Alice.  I've been looking for you two everywhere.  I'm afraid that I've got some bad news.  Your relocation has been moved up."

"What?  They said that we had till Saturday.  Why?" Vaughn queried.

"I don't know.  They didn't say.  They just said they want you out of here as soon as possible."

"So, we're leaving in the morning?"

"No, _now_."

Vaughn's pulse started to race a little.  If they were jumping the gun like this, there had to be a reason, not just Kendall's vindictiveness.  Either he had been traced or something had happened at the enclave.  Either way, it wasn't good.  He decided to play it down for Alice's benefit.

Alice started panicking.  "But why, I haven't packed anything yet!  I haven't even picked up my records from the doctor.  What's wrong?"

"It's okay, honey", Vaughn said as he stroked his wife's back.  "It's probably just some paperwork SNAFU.  Brad, can we at least have an hour or so to pack or do we need to move this minute."

Brad Mueller carefully contemplated his friend's request.  "Make it a half an hour and you've got a deal."

Vaughn was packed within ten minutes.  As Alice scurried around the apartment, he pulled Brad over to the side.  "Is there any reason to believe that we've been blown?"

"Evan, I honestly don't know.  They just said that they wanted you out of here tonight.  They didn't send up anybody else so I'm assuming that there was probably just some minor security breach and they're playing it safe."

Vaughn nodded.  He had a point.  They would have sent back up if they were expecting a confrontation.  He still had a knot in the pit of his stomach though and decided to ask Brad a favor.  "You're probably right, but to be on the safe side, why don't you go get an additional gun for me."

Brad Mueller looked at Evan Markham in disbelief.  "Listen, I know you're spooked, but everything's going to be fine.  Do you even know how to use one?"

Vaughn hesitated, not sure how much he should reveal.  "Come into the kitchen for a second."

When both men were in the kitchen, away from Alice, he turned back to Mueller and asked, "Please let me see you're gun for a second.  I promise that I'll give it back to you in a minute."

Brad Mueller looked skeptical, but actually let Evan have the gun.  To his amazement, he watched as his friend dismantled and then reassembled it in less than two minutes.  When he was done, he returned the gun to Mueller and said, "I'm no innocent bystander.  I was law enforcement and I know how to use one of these.  I just want to make sure that you have backup."

After he shut his mouth, Mueller considered his request.  "Listen Evan, I'd love to get you one, but there's only two over at the office.  If I go in to get one, it's just going to raise all sorts of flags.  I'm not even supposed to be on tonight.  If you want, you can ride shotgun next to me.  If we get into any trouble, which I doubt, I can hand you my gun and keep driving."

Vaughn was less than pleased, but nodded his assent.

A half an hour later, their bags loaded in the back of the Jeep, Mueller and the Markhams headed out.  Vaughn had tried to ride shotgun, but Alice's pleading forced him into the back seat with her.  She was rattled and he was doing everything he could to keep her calm.  Brad Mueller started the car and they left the campus behind them.  By the route he was following, Vaughn could tell that they were wending their way towards the interstate.  There were five miles of back road between here and there.  If anything were going to happen, it would likely be on these roads.  While he held Alice's hand and whispered comforting words to her, he continuously scanned the darkness looking for anything out of the ordinary.

They were less than two miles from the interstate and had yet to encounter another vehicle.  Vaughn was just starting to relax a little when they came to a stop sign at the bottom of a T-shaped intersection.  As soon as Mueller brought the car to halt, a single shot rang out, shattering the driver's side window.  Vaughn immediately pushed Alice to the floor and covered her body with his.  Then, he called out to Mueller, "Brad, are you all right!  Do you see anything?!"

 Silence.

Alice began crying and Vaughn knew he had to do something quickly before whoever it was advanced on the car.  He whispered to his wife to stay down, no matter what, and then quickly sat up to check on Mueller in the front seat.  He looked over the to see Brad Mueller slumped over the steering wheel.  The left side of his skull had been blown away by a single shot from a high-powered rifle.  He reached over and pulled Mueller back so that he could better access the gun in his shoulder holster.  As he raised himself to lean over the seat and grab the weapon, another shot rang out, hitting his side of the car.  He immediately dove for cover.

Alice started screaming and Vaughn assured her that he was okay, that she should continue to stay down.  Then, without raising his head above the seat, he fumbled with his left arm around Brad Mueller's body.  Within a few moments, he had gotten a hold of the gun.  

By the direction of the sound and the impact of the shots, it appeared that there might only be a single gunmen on the left side of the car.  Vaughn came up with a plan, praying that he could get his wife to cooperate.  She was sobbing hysterically beneath him and, if they were going to get out of this alive, she was going to have to pull it together.

"Alice!  _Alice, listen to me!",_  he shouted.  Then, softly he continued,  "We have a chance to get out of this, but only if you do exactly as I say!  On the count of three, I'm going to open your door.  You run straight for the woods keeping your head _down_.  I'll be right behind you.  Once in the woods, run parallel to the road on the right.  It's a pretty busy road and we may have a chance to flag someone, but you have to move now!  On the count of three, _one…two…Three!_"

With that, Michael Vaughn threw open the door, got up off his wife, pulled her up and then pushed her out the door with all of his might.  She was still sobbing, but had enough of her wits about her to prevent herself from sprawling on the pavement.  She heard Michael scramble out and shoot off two rounds into the woods on the opposite side of the road.  She was still frozen, but then felt her husband turn behind her, pushing her saying,  _"Run, just run, Dammit!  Keep your head down!" _

She moved as fast as she could, but it wasn't very fast given her new bulk.  She had never been a very good runner to start with and her burgeoning belly and new found terror weren't helping any.  She felt her husband grab her left hand and drag her into the woods.  He relentlessly pulled her forward, gun at the ready in his other hand, checking behind them every few seconds and then scanning the road to their left for any signs of traffic.  Suddenly, she could see a car coming in the opposite direction through the trees and she felt her husband yank her out of the woods and onto the pavement.

"Don't say _anything_ until we're in the car!  Let me do all the talking", her husband implored her.  With that, he let go of her hand to flag the car down, pushing her slightly in front of him to shield her and keep the hand with the gun hidden between his body and hers.  

The sedan slowed down for the young couple who looked as though their car had broken down at the intersection ahead.  The elderly gentleman who was driving rolled down his window to speak to Vaughn.  Just then, Vaughn heard a twig snap behind him.  He whirled around, pulling the gun up to fire, but it was too late.  As he got a round off, he was hit in the neck and shoulder and fell to the ground.  The last thing he heard was his wife's screams and the squeal of the tires on the sedan as the driver gunned it to get out of harm's way.

Michael Vaughn woke up in the back of what appeared to be a camper van cruising down the interstate.  He was sprawled on the long bench seat that lined one side and his head was being cradled in what was left of his wife's lap.  She was gently stroking his features, trying to get him to come to.  When he finally stirred, she uttered a gasp of relief and whispered, "Thank goodness".  He couldn't make out who was driving, but the passenger who was riding shotgun came back.

"Hello, Vaughn.  How are you doing?"

"Jack?!  What the _hell_ is going on?"  He tried to sit up, but was still a bit woozy.  He pulled himself up to sit, bracing himself against Alice's shoulder.

Jack Bristow was dressed completely in black from head to toe, which always gave him an ominous appearance, even when he was supposed to be your friend.  "I'm sorry about tranqu-ing you, but you'd gotten yourself a bit pumped up, protecting your wife and all.  You nearly blew my head off."

"Christ, Jack!  You killed a US Marshal!  Couldn't you have found another way to talk to me!"

"I had no choice.  He wasn't who you thought he was.  He was a Triad mole and he was about to deliver you back to Sloane.  That's why your relocation had been moved up.  I only found out about him yesterday when I paid a _former_ colleague of mine at Justice a visit." 

By the way he was talking, Vaughn got the sinking feeling that Brad Mueller wasn't the only dead body on the trail that Jack Bristow had blazed to him.  His head was still swirling with this new information, but he knew that he had more important things to discuss with Jack at the moment.  "Jack, you need to go in _right now_.  There are things that you should know that we can't discuss here", he said giving Alice a sideways glance."

"That's not possible.  I can't let the JTF know that I'm back.  They might try to use me to get Irina.  I can't let that happen.  Right now, she's still our best bet at getting Sloane."

"Jack, you don 't understand.  They have something _very important_ that belongs to you."

Jack just shook his head at Vaughn's attempt to keep his wife out of this.  "I _know_ that!  I would like to retrieve _it_ from them and I need your help.  I have reason to believe that _its_ location may be compromised and that their intentions towards _it_ are less than honorable."

Vaughn sat there stunned.  "_What do you mean, you know?!_  Sydney's been alive this whole time and you _knew_!"

"What? She's alive!" Alice shrieked.

"The two of you just calm down!  Vaughn, I didn't know until three months ago that she was alive!  I _immediately _tried to get in touch with you through my contact at Justice.  Unfortunately, he wouldn't tell me where you were.  He said that he could get a message to you, but I couldn't risk the JTF finding out.  I should have known then that something was off.  He was working with Sloane the whole time.  We had both worked with him years ago at the Agency.  I can't believe how stupid I was not to have seen it sooner!  I also tried to reach you through Weiss, hoping that the two of you had left a back channel of communication open.  I should have known that you'd play by the rules."

The Vaughns sat quietly, trying to adsorb everything Jack Bristow had said.  Michael Vaughn was the first to speak.  "You said that your contact was with Sloane the whole time.  If so, why didn't they come after me?"

"According to my _former_ colleague, they were going to right about the time I tried to contact you.  They held off hoping that I would change my mind and try and send you a message.  They didn't know what it was about, but they were curious enough, and wanted Irina badly enough, that they've held off until now.  You're little field trip and sudden relocation peaked their interest though.  So, here we sit."

"Jack, may I assume that your _former _colleague has gone the way of Haladki?"  Vaughn asked, not wanting to get more specific for the sake of his wife.

Jack merely cocked his head and eyebrow, smiling slightly.  Vaughn found that it didn't particularly bother him.

Alice finally spoke, "So _she_ was the reason that they pulled you back in?  You were with _her_ the entire time you were away!"

Michael Vaughn bent over and started rubbing his temples.  "You don't understand.  She woke up without any memory of the past two years.  I had to help bring her in.  We didn't know where Jack was and I was one of the few people she trusted…"

Alice interrupted, "So off you went on another crusade for _Saint Sydney_, even though the last one almost got you killed!  When will it be enough!  When you're dead!  How do you know for sure that she doesn't remember?  How do you know that she wasn't just deceiving you!"  She had gotten up off the seat and was ranting hysterically at her husband.

That was it.  Jack Bristow had had enough.  "_Quiet_!" he boomed while staring at Alice.  Then, without removing his gaze from her, in a much quieter voice he started, "Vaughn, you haven't asked me how I found you.  After all, Justice wouldn't and Weiss couldn't tell me where you were.  It turns out that there was another mole.  One that was even closer than Brad Mueller.  I only went back to my former associate in Justice after I had found out that you had been placed here and had then been pulled out.  I went to see if he knew where they might have taken you."

Vaughn looked over at his wife, who was wearing a terrified expression as Jack Bristow continued to inch closer to her, barely controlled rage in his eyes.  Vaughn pulled himself up and wedged himself between his wife and Jack.  "You have _no_ idea what you're talking about!  What do you think you are doing?  I know what you're capable of, but not this – not even for Sydney."

"You're right, Vaughn, but in many ways what I'm about to do is much worse".  He turned once again toward Alice.  "Mrs. Vaughn, there is something you should know.  _Barbara Carlisle is not now, nor has she ever been_, an officer of the CIA. You need to tell your husband the truth about the child.  Tell him or I will."  



	8. Alice's Tale

Part 8   -   Alice's Tale

Alice Morgan was late for work, again.  The 405 was backed up and she was still three exits away.  It didn't help that she was already in a bad mood.  Her blind date with 'Walter' had been a disaster.  One of her college friends, an accountant, had set her up with a co-worker.  "He's not much to look at", she acknowledged, "but he's very sweet, has done really well for himself, and I'm sure he'll treat you like a queen."  True enough, Walter had picked her up in his new Porsche and taken her to Spago's for dinner.  

Walter may have been sweet, but he was also incredibly boring.  She had had more fun watching paint dry.  Also, the description of 'not much to look at' had been the understatement of the year.  He was balding, slightly pudgy, and had a big broad nose.  He was also a bit on the short side.  She was 5'6" and he was barely taller than she.  He kind of reminded her of Donovan.  She started laughing at the thought until she began to think about the little bulldog's owner.

Michael Vaughn.  Bastard extraordinaire.  She couldn't believe that she had let him get under her skin again.  She knew that technically they were just friends, but she had held out a faint hope.  After all, they had broken up before and gotten back together.  She knew that he hadn't started dating again since the whole Rita/Sydney thing and they had grown quite close.  They would go out at least once a month, to play pool or have dinner, and then maybe catch a movie.  She really thought he still cared about her.  

Suddenly, without warning, over two months ago, he stood her up.  He actually left her waiting at a restaurant in Santa Monica and then never called to apologize.  First, she was furious, then concerned.  She tried calling him, only to have her messages left unanswered.  When she finally tracked down that lout Eric Weiss almost a month later, he had told her that Michael had taken a temporary assignment overseas.  He was unsure when he would return.  It was then that she decided that she would never again fall for Michael's charms.

The problem was that Michael Vaughn had ruined her for other men from the day he walked, or hobbled as the case might be, into her life five years earlier.  She was a physical therapist for a posh sports medicine practice in Beverly Hills.  Their clientele consisted mainly of athletes, celebrities, and the well-heeled, but disastrously uncoordinated, friends and associates of the orthopedic surgeons.  

However, the surgeon she worked for, Lars Sorenson, was a little bit different.  Oh, he had all those clients too, but he also had the occasional federal worker from the State Department.  He must have had one hell of a friend over there because none of those patients could afford the steep fees the practice charged.  It was obvious that Sorenson was just accepting the insurance reimbursements on them.  There were not many of them though, only a four or five each year, but since she was dedicated to Sorenson, she worked with all of them.

These patients differed from their other clientele in that they tended to be much less whiny and demanding.  She supposed it was because they were so grateful for the level of care which they were receiving.  The celebrities and friends were the worst, whining unmercifully as she tried to help them recover from their injuries.  The athletes weren't as bad, but their arrogance was almost unbearable.  Not only did they usually try to show her how macho they were by not responding to obviously painful manipulations, but they usually also thought of themselves as God's gift to women.  They honestly couldn't understand why someone like her wouldn't want to have a one-night stand or a nooner with them.  In comparison, the referrals from the State Department were dreams.  They were always on time, waited patiently for their appointments, and didn't hassle her at all either personally or about the exercises she made them do.

Michael had been one of those patients, a weapons inspector for the Bureau of Arms Control.  He had sustained an osteochondral knee fracture playing ice hockey.  Luckily for him, it had been a relatively simple fracture which had responded marvelously to arthroscopic surgery and then physical therapy.  Lars Sorenson was a leading expert on this particular type of knee surgery and had actually used his success with Michael in a journal article. 

For three months, he was her favorite patient.  She would always be sure that he got the last appointment of the day, so that she could spend extra time with him.  Not only was he cooperative and pleasant, he would actually say 'thank you' at the end of each session.  That he was exceptionally easy on the eyes was an added bonus.  

They had a lot in common.  They were both only children raised by a single parent.  Her mom had died of cancer when she was 12.  His dad had been in law enforcement and was killed in the line of duty when he was 8.  They loved the same music, Italian food, and _pool_.

Her father had been a nationally ranked amateur and a Brunswick Balke Collender table stood in the middle of their living room while she grew up.  She often played with her father, especially after her mother died.  Playing pool was what kept the communication flowing between them during those tough teenage years.   Michael was one of the few people that she had ever confided this to and he, in return, had opened up as to how he and his mother had made it through those difficult times.

 When his rehabilitation was over, he gave her a present to thank her for all the extra time she had spent with him, a beautiful, hand-painted Meucci pool cue.  It was black and white and it had small delicate red roses painted on the shaft and base.  It was gorgeous, almost as gorgeous as his lop-sided smile when he saw her reaction.  Then, Alice Morgan did something that she never had, she gave a patient her phone number and prayed that he would call.

Less than a week later, he asked her out.  They went on several dates, usually pool or dinner and a movie.  He was always the perfect gentleman, dropping her at her door with a simple kiss goodnight, even though she had asked him in on a couple of occasions.  He would always beg off with some excuse.  She was just beginning to wonder if he was gay when he asked her away for the weekend to a friend's cabin up at Big Bear Lake.  Definitely not gay.

After that, they fell into a comfortable pattern.  They were both too busy during the week.  He traveled and worked late; she often saw patients in the evening.  Weekends were their thing.  At least twice per month they would spend them together.

Two years into their relationship, just about the time she thought that he might propose, or at least ask her to move in with him, he broke it off with her instead.  There was the standard, "It's not you, it's me".  He didn't want to lead her on.  He cared too much about her.  He just couldn't see settling down any time soon.  He didn't want to hold her back because he knew that that was what she wanted.  He wanted to be fair.

She tried to disagree with him, but knew he was right.  How could she have misread him so?  She went off to lick her wounds.

Several months later, after a parade of Walter's, some mutual friends held a party at a local pool hall.  He was there and they struck up a conversation.  They both missed what they had had.  However, he was honest and told her that he had not changed his mind about commitment.  He claimed that he just wasn't there yet and that his job was not conducive to family life.  She decided to take what she could get and they fell back into their old pattern.

One night, after a particularly long round of pool and drinking with friends, he was talking in his sleep.  He kept calling for some guy named Sid.  His voice alternated between near frantic and soft and seductive.  Had her first instincts been right?  Was he conflicted?  Did he have a secret life?  The episode left her unsettled.

The next few months were a blur.  Her dad got sick, heart failure.  He wasn't a candidate for a transplant.  Then, Michael got sick too. It was something highly contagious that he had contracted during an inspection in Africa.  Although he became quite ill, he recovered quickly.  The same was not true for her father.  A month later, he was dead.  

She kept running into a co-worker of Michael's, Rita.  Once at the hospital right after he had become ill and then about a month later in a bar.  She seemed pleasant enough, but there was something about her that unnerved Alice.  She tried to dismiss it, after all Rita seemed sweet and had a boyfriend, but she didn't like the way she looked at Michael.

Six weeks later it was over, again.  Michael called her one morning and asked to meet her for breakfast.  She could hear that tone in his voice.  She knew what was coming.  Things hadn't been quite right between them for a while.  In truth, they had never been able to get back in synch after the breakup.  They both knew deep down that they had mismatched expectations.  Then, doubts about his sexuality had started to plague her.

The breakup was civil.  He admitted feelings for a co-worker.  He had never cheated on her, but things were different now at work and they would be able to pursue a relationship that neither had thought possible.  Alice had to know whether her suspicions were right, but could not ask him outright.  She asked him instead if it was Rita, praying that it wasn't some guy named Sid.  He was shocked, but acknowledged that it was indeed Rita.  It was her turn to be shocked. 

 He apologized for causing her any pain.  She would always be important to him.  If she needed anything, she should just call.  After a brief exchange of possessions a few days later, she didn't see him again.

Three months later, after a particularly late night at the clinic, Alice came home, flicked on the news, and headed to the kitchen to make a salad.  She could hear the days events – a drive-by shooting, a 10-mile backup on the 5, a home invasion.  She was just returning when they flashed the pictures of the victims on the screen along with their names and a phone number to call with any information.  Alice dropped her dinner, the plate shattering on the floor.  The names under the photos read Francie Calfo, Will Tippin, and _Sydney _Bristow.  Will and Rita.  Will and _Sydney_.  _Syd_ not Sid.  

She was stunned.  Everything made sense now, although she never called Michael to confirm it.  Morbid curiosity, however, compelled her to read every news account of what had happened in an attempt to learn everything she could about Sydney Bristow.  Unfortunately the exercise left more questions than answers.

When Michael's mother died, she felt compelled to go to the funeral.  Not so much to mourn, as his mother and she had never really gotten along, but to reciprocate the support that he had shown her during her father's illness and passing.  She gave her condolences and they exchanged pleasantries.  Then, she saw Will Tippin.  She had to ask.  She had to know.  Michael explained about Sydney's undercover status as a banker, trying to expose illegal arms deals, and how the home invasion might have been related.  Alice had had no idea how dangerous his job could be.  She gave her condolences again.

After that, they would go out together occasionally, maybe once or twice a month.  Usually, they would just play pool, but occasionally they would go out to dinner.  The last time they were to go out was for her birthday over two months ago.  He left her waiting at the restaurant and never called to explain or apologize.

Yesterday, out of the blue, Eric Weiss called her at work just as she was heading out for her date with Walter.  He said that he had some news about Michael.  She told him where he could stick his news and hung up on him.  Michael Vaughn could rot in hell for all she cared.

When she finally made it into work that morning there were three messages waiting for her, two from Eric Weiss and one from Will Tippin.  Michael was really pulling out all the stops this time, trying to get his friends to smooth things over for him.  Why did he care after all this time?  Was he coming home?  'Time to call good old Alice…'  What was that saying?  "Fool me once, shame on you.  Fool me twice, shame on me."  Fool me three times, I must be a complete moron.  She crumpled up the messages and threw them in the trash.  

After a hectic day, she crawled out to the parking garage at 7pm.  She hadn't even had lunch and her mood, if at all possible, was even worse than it had been earlier.  So, when she came to find both Eric and Will leaning on the hood of her new mini-Cooper, she was less than hospitable. 

 "Well if it isn't Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum. You boys can save your breath because I don't care what Michael's excuse is.  I'm not falling for any of his crap again."

"Alice, you don't understand…", Eric began.

"Don't understand what?!  That I've been used by your friend more times than I can count and that now he's not even man enough to come apologize and talk to me himself!  Bite me, Eric!"

_"Alice"_, Will Tippin pleaded, "just give us five minutes to explain.  There are some things that you should know."

"I understand why Eric's here, Will.  He's always been Michael's lackey.  How did he rope you into coming?"

"He didn't.  He doesn't even know we're here."

Now, they had peaked her curiosity.  "Fine. Five minutes, but it had better be good…"

"Michael didn't take an overseas assignment", Eric started, "I lied about that."

"_What?  He's been in LA this whole time?"_

"No.  He was in France.  He just wasn't on an assignment."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"Because it was, and still is, classified", Will interjected.  "Alice, Mike doesn't work for the State Department "he works for the _CIA_".

"All right.  That's it!  I've heard _enough_.  You seriously want me to believe Michael Vaughn works for the _CIA!  _Please…  I suppose you both work for the CIA too – a 35-year-old man-child and an ex-junkie reporter!"

Will and Weiss winced.  It probably did sound a bit preposterous, at least from her point of view.  They both pulled out their ID's and handed them to her.  Alice took them and looked at them closely.  She still wasn't entirely convinced.

"Okay, let's say I believe this.  Where exactly is Michael and what does all this have to do with me?"

Eric responded, "He was abducted two and a half months ago and held captive by a terrorist organization.  Two weeks ago, we got a location on him and were able to rescue him.  He's been in a CIA hospital abroad since.  They're transferring him back here as we speak."  Then, he handed her a manila envelope.

"What's this?"

"It's in case you have any more doubts", Eric said.   "Open it.  Once you look at them though, you have to give them back to me."

She immediately opened the envelope.  There was an official looking letter followed by a few 8x10 photos.  The letter was on "official" CIA letterhead and addressed to her.  It attested to the fact that Michael Vaughn had been with the Central Intelligence Agency for over ten years and had indeed been abducted while on an "operation" over two months ago, the day before he was supposed to meet her for dinner.  It also stated that, in addition to physical injuries, he had sustained a psychic trauma and that they needed help from a close personal friend outside of the agency.  Eric Weiss and Will Tippin had suggested her.  If she agreed, she should come with them immediately.  If she didn't, she shouldn't disclose to anyone what she had seen or heard, or she would be prosecuted.

Then, there were the photos.  She thought she was going to be ill.  They were of Michael in a hospital bed.  His legs were in traction and his right arm was casted from hand to shoulder.  He was gaunt and pale.  His eyes were dull and lifeless.  His hair was longer and he had a full beard and moustache.  He looked more like a concentration camp victim than her old boyfriend.  

"What the hell happened to him, Eric".  Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"We don't really know for sure.  He hasn't been able to tell us anything.  He's catatonic.  The doctors think that he may be suffering from post-traumatic stress among other things.  They think that having someone around him with whom he has a personal bond, but who doesn't have any link to the CIA or what happened to him might be able to help him come out of it.  So, what do you say?"

The next day she was on her way to the San Juans.  After her meeting with Will and Eric, they took her to Andrews Air Force Base where she met the others – Director Kendall, Drs. Barnett and Kramer, and Jack Bristow.  They thanked her for her cooperation and told her that an extended leave would be arranged for her at work.  Dr. Sorenson would understand as he had ties to the Agency.  She was to tell no one where she was going or why.  If they asked, she was taking a well earned extended vacation.  Sorenson would back her up.  

She was asked to make a list of a half dozen or so things from Michael's apartment that would have special meaning to him, comfort items.  So, as she sat in the cabin of a yacht taking her from Whidbey Island to the enclave, she had the following with her:

_A framed picture of Michael with his parents _

_A Kings jersey_

_A Mets cap_

_The Beatles Anthology_

_Sinatra and Police CDs_

_His lucky coin_

_His father's watch_

_Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson_

She held the book in her hands, remembering her favorite story of his childhood.  On his seventh birthday, his grandparents had given it to him.  They felt he was old enough to start enjoying the classics.  He had been horribly disappointed, having wished for just about anything but a book.  However, his father started reading it to him at night whenever he was home.  It wasn't long before he was hooked.  

Near the end of the book, they found a treasure map between the pages.  It looked old and was fairly nondescript, but it bore some resemblance to their backyard.  So, the next day he used the map and unearthed a large box of chocolate gold coins right near one of his mother's rose bushes.  He was in heaven.  His parents were amused.  Emboldened however, he started digging for treasure everywhere.  After he had ruined two of her rose bushes and was threatening to become the scourge of the neighborhood, his mother finally made his father tell him the truth.

She had wanted to bring Donovan too, knowing how attached he and Michael were to each other.  However, Eric had convinced her otherwise.  Michael's condition was precarious at best and the island enclave with its heightened security was no place for the rambunctious little dog.  He had settled in nicely at Eric's.  It would be best to leave him there.

No one had told her that it would be so blustery and bleak.  She had packed for colder climes, but the San Juans in February were a damp and dreary place.  The fog was thick and there was a biting chill in the air.

When they arrived at the island, Weiss escorted her to her room on the first floor.  It adjoined Michael's through a shared bathroom.  He had arrived earlier in the day.  Although she knew she was supposed to wait to see him, she couldn't.  She went into the bathroom and crept close to his door which was ajar.  Through the crack, she saw him lying there sleeping, a maze of tubes and wires and splints.  As bad as the pictures had been, this was worse.  He looked so fragile, so broken.  Her heart ached just looking at him.

The first few days were the worst.  She would sit with him for hours, talking to him and reading to him.  He would simply stare into space motionless.  She placed his things around the room and played music for him.  There was no response.  She told Dr. Barnett that she didn't think it was working, but the doctor disagreed.  There had already been subtle changes in his EEGs.

She was going insane.  She had never been a particularly patient person and Michael's condition and the dreary weather were making her feel claustrophobic.  She had to do _something_.  So, she did what she was trained to do.  She went to Dr. Kramer and demanded to see his X-rays and asked what kind of physical therapy had been started.  She was appalled to find that they'd done essentially nothing for him.  After she thoroughly reviewed both his X-rays and his files from the orthopedist, she got to work.  She knew what she could move and what she couldn't.  She also knew how to be careful and cause as little discomfort as possible.  She got his limbs moving as best she could.  Within a few days, his overall color was better due to the improved circulation.

About a week in, after she had already done his physical therapy and had read aloud as much as she could bear, she was at a loss for what to talk about.  She started talking about a friend's upcoming wedding that she was in.  She talked about the people and the dresses, the flowers and the music and the fiancé and the parents.  She really wasn't paying attention to his reaction as she wasn't expecting any, but when she looked up, she had to laugh. The look on his face and in his eyes was pleading with her_, "For the love of God, please shut up!"_  She immediately ran over and kissed him and then changed the subject.

A few days later as she was reading a passage in _Treasure Island_ to him, she decided that he had had enough and that it would be best if he napped.  The look he gave her told her that he disagreed, but she had made up her mind.  She went to pull up his covers and kiss him on the forehead, but ended up jumping so high that she nearly hit the ceiling when he unexpectedly rasped out, "No, _More_."

By the end of that week, he was feeding himself and they were carrying on conversations and playing board games.  She told him if he behaved himself he could start getting out of bed for a little bit in a few days.  She was thrilled with his progress.  However, it didn't take long before the JTF damped her enthusiasm.

Just when she had him interacting, even smiling occasionally, they decided that it was time to start the regression therapy.  The very first time they did it he started having seizures.  She would have thought that that would have been enough to stop them, but it didn't.  They would either increase or change his medication and try again the next day.  

She confronted Dr. Barnett about it.  She claimed that, even though what they were doing appeared to be cruel, it would help him in the long run.  Michael understood why they had to do it.  By the look on her face, Alice could tell that the good doctor was trying to convince herself at the same time.  When she didn't get any satisfaction from Barnett, she went to talk with the internist, Dr. Kramer.  That was a mistake.  From then on, whenever they were going to regress him, she was sent off on the morning supply run with Jenkins to Friday Harbor.  They would pick her up on the afternoon run long after they had finished.

During all of this, Alice felt that she had only one true ally.  She found it ironic that the father of the woman who had stolen Michael from her would be her biggest supporter.  He was a very somber man, even a little bit scary at times.  To her though, he was always polite.  He made sure that she got all the equipment that she needed for Michael's physical therapy.  He was the only senior officer that seemed in any way distressed over what they were doing to him.

At first, she hated her trips into Friday Harbor.  It may be a quaint island hamlet during the high season, but during March and April it was a pretty buttoned up place.  Only about half of the shops were open and she always felt like she was getting the evil eye from the locals.  She had been told that, if anyone asked, she was the private physical therapist for a software executive who had been in a skiing accident and had come to the islands to recuperate.  This alienated the locals even more.  They hated all the new money that had poured into the area, transforming their beloved islands into a playground for the rich.  

Jenkins saw how miserable she was and took it upon himself to introduce her to some of the local merchants, the town librarian, and his sister, who still lived in town.  After that, she did much better.  At least then she was able to get a cup of coffee and head over to the library to read without feeling unwelcome or out of place.  

A couple of weeks into her new routine, she made a new friend.  She met a woman at the library who was researching the history of the islands for a book she was writing on the area.  She came over to the table that Alice was sitting at with an armful of books and proceeded to spread out on the other half.  They exchanged pleasantries and then the woman went about her work.  About an hour later, the woman asked her if she wouldn't mind answering a few questions about the area.

"I'm not from around her.  I'm working temporarily on one of the private islands near here.  I just come into town to get a break and see humanity, what there is of it here."

"Oh, I'm sorry.  I should have known.  You're the first person who hasn't tried to glare me down."

Alice laughed, "I know what you mean!  It wasn't till a local friend introduced me around that I felt they weren't trying to melt me with their eyes."

"Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Barbara Carlisle."

"Hi.  I'm Alice Morgan."

Barbara Carlisle was a stunning woman with auburn hair and blue eyes.  She was tall and graceful.  Alice guessed that she was in her early to mid-forties and in good shape physically.  She was wearing snug jeans and a short burgundy cowl sweater.  It was an outfit which would be hard for a women half her age to pull off, yet she did it with style.

She and Alice went to lunch together and Alice showed her around as best she could.  Alice hadn't enjoyed herself so much in months.  Barbara told her that she would be around until the end of the week and asked if she was available for lunch tomorrow.  Alice eagerly agreed.

The next day, after a long lunch and few glasses of wine, Barbara told Alice that she had a confession to make.  "I'm going to tell you something that's probably going to get me in a lot of trouble.  I'm not really writing a book."  

Then, Barbara Carlisle pulled out her CIA badge.  It looked identical to Will and Eric's.  Alice was crestfallen.  

"They don't even trust me to be by myself for a few hours!  I swear that I haven't told anyone anything!"

"Sshh, my dear, you misunderstand.  You've broken no protocols whatsoever.  Your cooperation has been above reproach.  I'm the one whose breaking protocol."

"I don't understand."

"I'm not with the Joint Task Force.  I'm regular CIA.  I've come here representing some concerns that I and some other senior officers have over how things may be proceeding at the enclave."

"Please continue", Alice said.

"Some of us, friends and colleagues of both Michael and his father, have concerns about how he may be being treated.  I don't know whether or not that they told you this out there, but about a week before you came here there was a raid on the JTF facility in Los Angeles.  Nine agents were killed and the JTF believes that the information, which would have been necessary to carry out the raid, could only have come from Agent Vaughn during his captivity.  Now, this may or may not be true, but in either case, my colleagues and I want to make sure that Michael is being treated appropriately, with compassion.  We have concerns because the man running the JTF currently, Director Kendall, has been known to take liberties with the rights of others when _he_ deems it necessary."

This is all Alice had to hear.  Now, everything made sense – the lack of concern for Michael's physical recovery and the continued regression therapy despite its obvious consequences.  They were punishing him for his perceived involvement in what had happened.  She was horrified.  But now, here was someone who might be able to help. 

Alice poured her heart out to Barbara about what she had seen and heard.  Barbara listened attentively and told her that she and others in the Agency would see what they could do.  However, Alice was to tell no one of their conversation or there would be repercussions for both of them.  She promised to return in a couple of weeks to see if things had improved.  They would meet again at the library as they had before.

Alice went back to the enclave rejuvenated.  Now, she had not only had an ally on the inside, but also another one on the outside.  She still didn't know too much about this world of espionage, but she knew what it had done to Michael.  She would do everything possible to get him off that island and out of this life as soon as possible.  

Over the course of the next two weeks, things improved.  Michael's seizures became less frequent, despite the fact that they continued to regress him.  He was out of bed several hours a day and equipment had arrived to help her with his physical therapy.  The cast on his arm was gone, replaced by a splint for his wrist.  He let her cut his hair and help him shave.  He started to look and even act more like his old self again.

The next time she met Barbara, she filled her in on all of the good news.  Barbara smiled and nodded approvingly.  Then, she asked Alice something quite unexpected.  "How is Jack Bristow doing?"

"He seems to be fine.  He's not around as much as before.  He seems to only come up on weekends now."

"Oh", said Barbara, "The reason I ask is that my colleagues and I are concerned about him also.  He has taken the confirmation of his daughter's death quite hard."

"Yes, I overheard Michael and him talking.  It sounded as though he's considering leaving the CIA."

"Really" said Barbara, concerned.  "What did Michael say?"

"Something to the effect that he couldn't blame him given the circumstances."

"Has Michael said anything about _his_ plans when this is all over?"

Alice sighed.  "Not much.  Just that the CIA is no longer an option for him.  They would like him to go into the Witness Protection Program, but he said something about not wanting to go through the rest of his life checking the doors and windows."

"Has the JTF or Michael said anything about when he might be done with his debrief and free to go?"

"They've estimated that he should be done in a month or so."

"What's up for you then?"

"I guess it's back to my life in LA, although it seems that there might not be a lot left for me there."

"You care about Michael a great deal, don't you?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Don't be embarrassed.  I'm sure your love for him has helped him a great deal in his recovery.  Does he know how you feel?"

"Part of me thinks he must.  Why else would I still be here?  It's complicated.  Right now, I guess I'm forever fated to live in the shadow of a ghost."

"You should tell him how you feel.  Perhaps protection would seem more of a viable option for him if he weren't alone.  I hate to think of him out from under the protective wing of the CIA and on his own, vulnerable to his enemies.  Witness protection really is the answer."

"I wish you could come and talk some sense into him."

"I'm afraid that I'm going to have to leave that to you.  There would be too many consequences for all of us if I were to get involved any more than I already am.  I tell you what, though.  Meet me back here a week from today and tell me what's happened.  If he still hasn't agreed to go into protection, perhaps we can brainstorm some other options."

Alice did her best to convince Michael to go into protection.  He refused.  She offered to go with him as she had so few ties back home.  This took him aback.  She had already done so much for him.  He couldn't ask her to make that kind of sacrifice.  She had no idea what she would be getting into.  She pressed him as to what his plans were then.  He said nothing specific, but intimated that he and Jack Bristow were contemplating some sort of joint venture.

By the time Alice met with Barbara the next week, she had become a bit frantic about Michael's prospects for the future.  "Barbara, he's not listening to reason.  I'm not sure what he and Jack Bristow are planning, but I can't imagine that it will end well."

"Are you sure that there's no way that he would go into protection with you?"

"I already told you.  He said no."

Barbara paused and thought for a moment.  She chose her next words carefully.  "Let's say Michael changed his mind and wanted to go into protection with you.  Are you absolutely sure that you would want to?  Because if you are, there may be a way."

"How?"

"Michael Vaughn is nothing if not an honorable man.  You could make so that he would feel compelled to go into protection with you."

"What are you saying?"

"Are you intimate?"

"We used to be, but that was ages ago.  Now, given the circumstances, I don't think he'd allow it.  I do catch him looking at me sometimes though, and I know that look very well.   I just think that he's too worried about me."

"He has a point, you know.  Do you really love him enough to go into witness protection with him forever?  Even if you have to deceive him to do it?  It can be done, but once you do, there's no looking back."

Alice thought carefully.  She knew exactly what the other woman was suggesting.  She had always dreamed of a family with Michael, but had long since given up hope of its happening.  Her dream now had been to get him safely out of this life.  It sounded as if Barbara had a plan that could help her realize both.  She met Barbara Carlisle's gaze and nodded her head.

"Okay, then.  Tell me when your last period was."

"Last week."

"Good.  Now, is Michael still on the same medication?"

This confused Alice.  "Yes, why?"

"We just need to be careful, that's all.  Meet me back here in four days.  I have to look into a few things."

When Alice met Barbara four days later, Barbara handed her two small packages.  She told her that the first contained four hypodermics and a bottle of pills containing fertility drugs.  Did she have a problem injecting herself?  She would need to do this for the next four days to make sure she ovulated at the end of the fourth day.  After that, she would have to take the pills for the next two weeks.  Alice nodded her head in understanding.  The second package contained some capsules.  They looked exactly like Michael's medication.  Alice gave Barbara a funny look.

"What are these?"

"Michael's pills, or at least the ones you'll give him on the fourth night."

Alice was worried.  "I don't know about tampering with his medication…."

"Don't be concerned.  I had a friend in Medical Services make these up.  They're completely safe.  It's Michael's regular medication mixed with a little something extra.  I've had two doctor's review the contents and they both concluded that they would be safe if used on a one-time basis"

"What's the something extra?"

"Gamma-hydroxy-butyrate, GHB."

"You've got to be kidding me!"  Alice couldn't believe what she was hearing.

Barbara started getting testy.   "Look, I'm not happy about this either, but if you're serious about keeping Michael out of harm's way and joining him in witness protection, this is our only option.  You don't have to do this you know.  The choice is yours.  I was simply trying to act in your and Michael's best interests."

Alice was flustered.  Part of her knew that they were going to have to do something to get Michael's cooperation, but giving him a date rape drug had not occurred to her.  The look on Barbara's face told her that she wanted an answer as to what she was going to do.  What other choice did she have?  If she didn't, Michael would never go into protection and she would still probably lose him forever.

"Okay", her voice was barely a whisper.

"If you change your mind, please call me the next time your in town."  Barbara handed her a card with just a phone number on it.  "This is a secure line.  Please memorize it and then destroy it.  The timing is tight on this if it's going to work.  We have a limited window of opportunity."

Alice nodded.

"All right.  If you decide to go through with this, you will need to make some excuse to go to Seattle exactly two weeks later.  You're dying for culture, people, shopping, or whatever.  There's a ferry that leaves from Friday Harbor first thing in the morning and another that gets back late at night.  I'll meet you at 2pm sharp at the base of the Space Needle.  I'll need to take you to a physician there so that we can determine whether you were successful."

For the next four days, Alice gave herself the injections that Barbara had given her.  They made her feel a little bit crappy, but she kept reminding herself why she was doing this.  

On the morning of the fourth day, she knew that she was going to have to come up with some way to spend the evening alone with Michael.  She convinced Dr. Kramer to X-ray his left leg.  The splint on the other leg had come off a couple of weeks ago.  The one on his left leg was due to be checked in a few days.  He was already down to just a wrist splint on his right arm.  Just as she suspected, the leg splint could come off at any time.  She convinced Dr. Kramer to let her tell him the good news over dinner.

The next part of the plan involved getting the others out of the way.  Kendall and Jack Bristow were already in LA, so there would be no issue with them.  She told Jenkins and Morganetti the good news about Michael's leg and how she wanted to celebrate with him privately by making him his favorite meal.  It didn't take much for them to catch on.  They offered no resistance to the idea.  After all, the man had to be allowed something.  As for Dr. Barnett, she decided to appeal to her as a woman.  She had obviously seen how much Alice and Michael cared for each other.  How could she possibly oppose some private time for them when, in all likelihood, they would not see each other again after the next few weeks?

Once all of the obstacles had been cleared, Alice set about making Michael his favorite dinner, Ossobucco with homemade risotto on the side.  She had gotten Morganetti to pick up all the ingredients on the afternoon run to Friday Harbor.  Then, she set up the dining room and waited.  

At seven o'clock, when Michael emerged from his evening session with Dr. Barnett, he found that no one was in the main house except for Alice.  Judy Barnett had slipped out quietly to join the others for dinner in the bunkhouse.  The dining room was lit by candlelight and Alice came over to help him to the table.

"What's this all about?" he asked, confused.

"We're celebrating!"

"Why…?"

"Because this", she motioned to the splint on his left leg, "is coming off right now!"

Vaughn was elated.  "Seriously?"

"Absolutely"

With that she sat him down and set about taking off the splint, which only took her a few minutes.  "Tomorrow, we'll set you up with a new brace.  I'll help you get around tonight."

"Where's everybody else?"

"I told them to take a hike.  I wasn't going to try and make Ossobucco and risotto for a cast of thousands.  They can fight over the leftovers, if there are any."

"There won't be..."

They enjoyed a wonderful meal together and tried to carry on a conversation completely devoid of references to either the CIA or the JTF.  Alice saw Michael eyeing her glass of red wine jealously.  She had made sure that she had picked out one of his favorites.

"Don't even think about it", she laughed.

"I don't think a couple of sips would hurt…"

"Forget about it!" she said as she got up to clear the dishes.  "I'm keeping an eye on you…"

"Spoil sport."

"I tell you what, if you want a cheap buzz, you can take your medication a couple of hours early with this," she said as she returned to the table with a cold bottle of O'Douls and two of the capsules Barbara had given her.

"It's not the same", he said, pouting.

"I know it's not, but it's as close as you're going to get!  Take it or leave it."

"Take it", he said, begrudgingly, as he downed the pills with a swig of the near beer.  "By the way, thank you."

"What for, being a spoil sport?"

He laughed.  "No, for all of this.  You're too good to me.  I honestly don't know how I would have gotten through any of this without you."

He looked at her in a way that would have normally melted her heart, but right now, the guilt was making her nauseous.  She put on her best fake smile and said, "You're welcome."

They continued to talk as she cleaned up from dinner.  Within fifteen minutes, she could hear his speech get sloppier and he was actually getting giddy.

"Hey, you weren't kidding!  I feel great!  I'll have to remember this for down the road…"

"Wonderful", she said shaking her head, "I've just taught you how to abuse you medication…."

He actually giggled.  She started feeling a little bit better.  At least he appeared to be enjoying himself.  Maybe this was going to work out after all.

"Once I'm done cleaning up, I'm going to help you get to your room".

When she finished, five minutes later, he appeared to be even more intoxicated.  She went over to the table and motioned for him to get up.  He almost fell over when he did.  Alice caught him and put his left arm around her neck and shoulder.

"Whoa.  Come on, Big Fella.  Time to get you to bed."

"I love you."

Alice's heart soared.  "You're a cheap date, Michael Vaughn.  Let's get going…"

She got him to his room, pulled down the linens on the bed, and plopped him down.  Then, she took off the sneakers, socks, and sweats that were his perennial wardrobe these days.  He was left in nothing but his boxers.

"You're not going to take advantage of me now, are you?" , he slurred out while laughing.

Alice froze for a moment, but then decided to use the opening.  "Only if you want me to", she said teasingly as she leaned over him and kissed him lightly on the lips.

He surprised her by responding.  It was tentative at first, but then he deepened the kiss and pulled her down onto the bed.  Before she knew it, they were rolling around the bed like teenagers, just like they had at the beginning of their relationship. 

After a few minutes, Alice broke their embrace and sat up to remove her dress.  He laid there with smoldering eyes as she slowly undid the buttons.  Just as she had finished pulling it over her head though, she saw a change in his expression.

"Wait.  We shouldn't be doing this…", he managed to slur out.

"Why not?"

"It wouldn't be fair to you.  I'll be leaving in a few weeks…"

"Let me worry about fair, okay?  I'm a big girl now."

_With that, she laid back down again next to him and kissed him deeply.  She started caressing the growing hardness in his boxers.  _

_He groaned as the sensations overwhelmed him.  "God, it's been so long…"_

_"For both of us", she replied as she continued stroking him.  She could feel the warmth pool in her moist center.  She wanted him so badly that her body was quaking at his every touch.  She raised herself up as she slowly peeled off his boxers and tossed them across the room.  Then, she rose up on her knees and removed her bra and panties in a mock striptease._

_"You're bad.  You're a very bad girl…", he slurred out._

_"I may be, but I'm the bad girl that you want right now", she replied huskily._

_Bracing her hands on either side of his shoulders, she perched herself over his engorged shaft and sank down on it slowly.  They moaned in unison.  He grabbed her hips as she slowly started to ride him.  He felt so good inside her, filling her completely.  After a minute or two, she leaned over to kiss him, but she could see by the roll of his eyes and the look on his face that he was on the edge of consciousness.  It would be best to stick to the task at hand._

_She picked up the pace and felt her orgasm swelling within her.  She could tell by his breathing that he was close too.  Just before she was about to come, she whispered to him, "I love you, Michael.  I love you so much…"_

_"Syd, I love you! Syd, Syd…," he cried in return as he spilled into her and then lapsed into unconsciousness._

_Alice never found her release._

The next morning, Michael Vaughn woke to find Alice spooned behind him, her right arm draped across his torso.  "Oh God, what did I do?" was all he could think.  It's not that he didn't care for her, he did, but he had sworn to himself that he would make sure that she didn't get sucked into this any more than she already had.  

He couldn't even remember what had happened.  The last thing he recalled was sitting at the dining room table, lusting after her glass of Merlot.  Apparently, that wasn't the only thing he was lusting after.  She gave him his medication early with an O'Douls.  _Oh, crap._

After she awoke the next morning, there had been a few awkward moments with Michael.  _He_ actually apologized _to her _about what had happened.  He knew that she couldn't hold her drink and he shouldn't have taken advantage.  Now was not the time for them to be getting involved again.  She was almost free of this mess and he did not want her getting pulled in any further.

She told him that she understood, that they had both lost it a little.  She should have never have let him take his medication early.  They should pretend that it never happened.

Two weeks later, Alice was headed to Seattle.  It hadn't been hard to convince them to let her go. Kendall was in town, which always meant more regression therapy sessions.  The ferry docked in Seattle at 1:30 pm so she had to scramble to meet Barbara at the Space Needle by 2pm.  

Once there, she scouted the area for Barbara to no avail.  She had no idea what to do.  At ten after, she was beginning to lose her nerve when a gentleman approached her.  

"Miss, oh, Miss!  Your friend is in the cab over there. She was afraid that she was going to lose it so she's gotten in already."

"Oh, thank you very much!"

Alice went over to the cab and got in.  As soon as she was seated, the driver took off.  Barbara apologized for the cloak and dagger, but she had to make sure that no one was following her.  They drove around for ten minutes before coming to a stop in front of a medical office building that was part of the University of Washington Medical Center.

They went to a fertility clinic on the fourth floor where Alice was brought to an examination room and blood and urine samples were taken.  She was alone in the room for about fifteen minutes before Barbara came in, a disappointed look on her face.

"I'm sorry dear.  I'm afraid it didn't work.  You're not pregnant."

"We did all that for nothing!"

Barbara had a strange look on her face, as if she were hesitant to say something.  "I'm sorry, but the doctor said that, since you're over thirty that sometimes it takes several cycles for these things to work.  He also mentioned that it might be something to do with the potential father.  That might make sense given everything he's been through."

"What are we going to do now?  Michael is scheduled for discharge in a week!"

Again, Barbara acted hesitant.

"What? What is it?"

Barbara shook her head.  "There is something else we could try, but it's pretty extreme.  Perhaps too extreme.  This is one of the leading _in vitro _fertilization centers in the country.  We could check to see if they had any embryos with the correct genetic phenotypes.  If they had an embryo whose parents' blood types and physical characteristics closely matched yours and Michael's, it could be implanted in you as a surrogate mother.  Michael need never know."

"You can actually do that?"

"Dear, we're the _CIA.  _We can do just about anything…."

  



	9. For The Love of Sydney

Part 9   -   For The Love of Sydney

Once Jack saw that Alice had begun telling the truth to Vaughn, he moved to the front of the van to let her continue doing so in privacy.  He sat back down next to Marco, listening in only occasionally to see where Alice was in her story.  Mostly, he stared out the window, remembering a time when he had learned of a similar betrayal.  He wished that he could have spared Vaughn this, but knew that he needed to know the truth.  At least Alice had deceived him out of love and misguided concern, trying to protect him.  The same could not be said for Jack's betrayal.

Marco looked over at Jack as they headed down the interstate back towards Seattle.  "Do you think it's safe to leave them back there alone given all the trouble he gave us a little while ago?"

"Trust me.  He's going nowhere."

Marco Triano hadn't known Jack Bristow long, only a few months, but he knew not to push the point.  This man was all business.  If he said to back off, it was time to back off.  He just hadn't anticipated almost getting killed trying to save somebody, at least by the somebody they were trying to save.  He had been standing right next to Jack Bristow when Michael Vaughn had wheeled around shooting.  The bullet had passed in the tight space between the two men.  They had both put a tranque dart in him.

It took Alice half an hour, more or less, to tell Michael what had happened, tears streaming down her face.  She swore to him again and again about how she had been convinced that Barbara was indeed CIA and trying to help him.  She begged his forgiveness for her deceptions.  She had done it to keep him safe, because she loved him.  She couldn't understand why anyone would want to do this other than to protect him.  She pleaded with him to speak to her.

For his part, Michael Vaughn sat silently, his expression a mixture of shock and anguish.  He knew this woman, perhaps better than anybody.  How could this have happened?  How could he not have seen it?  He knew that she loved him, that she would do anything for him.  He had just never realized what anything would entail.  

Part of him knew that he could never truly forgive her for what she had done.  Yet another part knew that, if it weren't for him, she would never have been brought to this.  He also could not ignore everything else she had done and sacrificed for him.  These things swirled around his head, tying both his tongue and stomach in knots.

He had always loved Alice for her trusting nature.  Knowing that there could still be people in the world like her, with everything that went on, had helped to keep him sane.  It was one of the reasons that he could keep doing what he had done for a living.  Now, her naïveté had been their downfall.  It's not that he had never seen it as a possibility.  It had been one of the original reasons that he had broken up with her in the first place.  Doing what he did, it had not made sense to be with such an ingénue.

He knew that Alice wanted him to say something, anything, but he was at a complete loss for words.  He couldn't even bring himself to look at her.  He chose instead to focus on _why_ someone would have done such a thing.  

Why would Sloane or Sark want this?  He knew Sark wanted him dead, but apparently he could have done that at any time after he had gone into "protection".  In fact, he had been planning to make that a reality months ago.  As for Sloane, he had to have believed that he already had gotten whatever information he was going to get from him.  He knew from his last cognizant interactions with Sloane that he had finally been convinced that Sydney was dead and that she wasn't the Prophecy Woman.  Maybe Sloane was somehow convinced that Irina would try to contact him again after his extraction and he wanted him someplace safe, hung out as bait.  In fact, isn't that what had happened, although it had been Jack Bristow and not Irina herself to rise to it?

Suddenly, he was hit by a realization.  Jack had said that he had only gone back to his contact in justice _after_ he had found out where he had been placed and that that had only been a few days ago.  He looked over at his wife who was still crying and looking expectantly at him for his reaction.  He decided that he had to push their problems aside for a moment in an effort to figure out what was going on.  He formulated his next words carefully.  With a quavering voice, he asked, _"Alice, I need you to tell me something.  After Seattle, how often were you in contact with Barbara Carlisle?"_

Alice paused her quiet sobbing to answer, "Only twice, I swear.  The first was when I called her from Friday Harbor the day after you asked me to marry you.  She seemed happy for us.  She told me to use the phone number that she gave me to get in touch with her if I ever needed anything.  I told her that I never planned on contacting her again.  Then, after they came and took you away, I was frantic.  Nobody had any answers.  I called her hoping that she could help me find out.  She asked me where we were and I told her.  _Please Michael,_ _tell me what you're thinking.  I need to know."_

_"I don't know what I'm thinking!",_ he agonized_.  "I need to sort this out first!"_

Alice nodded and went back to quietly waiting, her lip bloody from when she bit it as he yelled.  

He was replaying everything that Alice had said about Barbara Carlisle in his head when the obvious struck him.  If Jack knew Sydney was alive, then _Irina_ knew and, if _Irina_ knew, it might have been for longer than three months.  Just when he thought that he couldn't feel any more violated, a sickening suspicion proved him wrong.

"Jack, could you come back here?"

Jack Bristow immediately returned to the back of the van.  He could see how stricken Vaughn was by the situation and the men shared a quiet moment of understanding.  He knew that Vaughn would have many questions.  Ones for which he wished he didn't have the answers.  

"Jack, please tell me that Barbara Carlisle isn't who I think she is."  He closed his eyes, waiting for the impact of his response.

"_I wish to God that I could."_

Vaughn leapt up, grabbing Jack by the front of his jacket, their faces mere inches apart, "How long have _you _known about _all of this_?"

"_I swear to you, Vaughn_, I only learned about the situation _after_ Alice called.  Then, Irina had to come clean."  

Vaughn saw Jack's pained expression, a reflection of his own, and released him.

Then, Jack continued, " We were trying to find out where Sydney had gone.  She had last been seen riding off with someone in Tsim Shat Sui.  When Alice called in a day later and explained that you too were missing, we put it together that somehow she must have ended up in CIA custody and that you had gone to bring her back in."

"That's when I went back to my former colleague in Justice to find where they had taken you.  Given what was at stake, I decided to use some persuasion.  He really didn't know where they had taken you, but he did admit being a mole for Sloane!  He also told me about the marshal and the fact that he was supposed to take you to Sloane right before a hastily planned relocation over the weekend.  He had said that the plan was to abduct the two of you tomorrow night.  I guess that Sloane must have somehow discovered something was amiss and moved up the timetable.  His asset must not have checked in or something because when Marco and I arrived earlier this evening you were already with Mueller at your place getting ready to leave."

"We decided not to intervene at the school because we didn't want to draw any attention.  Marco and I knew that they had originally planned to fly you out of a local airstrip, so we attached a tracking device to the Jeep and went to stake out the intersection where we ambushed you.  Sure enough, you headed straight for us and you know the rest."

Vaughn sat back down, rubbing his forehead, desperately trying to process what Jack had said to him.  He was having a hard time concentrating after he had heard confirmation of who was responsible for what had been done to him.  He had been trying to reconcile his emotions about Irina ever since he found out that she had been the one responsible for his rescue from Sloane.  Irina Derevko was not only his father's murderer, the love of his life's treacherous mother, and his own personal savior from Sloane, she was now also, as far as he was concerned, his seducer for her own sick purposes.  Alice had merely been her instrument.  She was no match for the likes of Derevko. 

Michael Vaughn turned an angry glare to Jack Bristow.  "For God's sake, Jack, why?  Why would she do this to me?  To Sydney?"

"To hear her tell it, it was all for the love of Sydney."

Sydney Bristow awoke the next morning to a world shrouded in gray.  She found it a propos as that is how her life seemed ever since Vaughn's departure and her confrontation with Kendall two days before.  She still couldn't believe that she would never see him again, and that she had made a deal with the devil to keep him safe.

It hadn't been all bleak, however.  She and Dr. Barnett had made some real breakthroughs in discovering what had happened with her over past two years.  She had been able to recall key interactions with those closest to her in her "other" life.  It turned out that the two men who had been searching for her in Hong Kong, Father Timothy Shea and David Allerby, had been the glue that had held her life together there.  She still didn't remember how she actually got to Hong Kong, but she recalled a lot about her life at the school and with David.

Father Tim had not only been her boss, but her counselor and spiritual adviser.  Although Sydney had taken some religion courses in college, she had never been particularly religious.  Apparently, Suzanne was.  She recalled complete conversations with Father Tim where they discussed her life, her faith and the challenges that she was struggling to overcome.  It was still like watching a movie when she remembered these things, but everything made a strange sort of sense.

She had told Father Tim that _both_ of her parents had died in a car accident when she was young.  She had been raised by her aunt and uncle.  However, her uncle had taken to abusing her so, as soon as she was able, she had left their care and gone out on her own.  This distressed her somewhat because she had been very close with her aunt and longed to be with her.  Her aunt had been devoted to her uncle and not willing to believe anything ill of him.  She had died several years ago, a true reconciliation between them never having been reached.

The rest of her "life" had been almost as bumpy.  Once she was out on her own and had worked her way through school, she met someone at work and fell in love.  They were together only a few years and had planned on marrying.  She told Father Tim that they had been soul mates in every sense of the word.  Unfortunately, he had contracted a blood disorder and had died after a brief illness.  The picture of her fiancé that she had carried in her head while she told Father Tim these things had been Vaughn's, not Danny's.  

The final straw that had caused her to flee her old life had been coming home one night after work to find her roommates, her two best friends, dead as the result of a home invasion.  She had needed to start anew and remembered reading somewhere about the large international expatriate population in Hong Kong.  She had thought that the locale sounded exotic and was willing to give anything a try.  

Then, there was David – sweet, wonderful, kind and caring.  When she had first seen the picture of them together, she had not registered the obvious resemblance between him and Danny.  They were the same height, and had the same eye color and build.  When she recalled him, she saw the same mannerisms and heard the same accent.  The biggest difference that she could find between them was that David's hair was a few shades lighter than Danny's.

David had lived his entire life in Hong Kong.  His parents were British expats and his father had worked in the stock exchange there.  He had recently retired, but they still lived nearby.  David had started teaching Math at St. Bartholomew's a few months after she had arrived.  She had made a few friends, but had kept mostly to herself.  David befriended her and didn't take no for an answer when she tried to remain aloof.  He took her all around Hong Kong, Macau, and the New Territories, showing her the world in which he had grown up.  Before long, she was in love with both Hong Kong and the man.

They had moved in with each other five months after meeting.  He had asked her to marry him, but she had refused, saying that she needed more time.  She loved him, but still hadn't moved on completely from her fiancé.  David seemed to understand, but had persuaded her to move in with him anyway.  They had a beautiful flat just outside of Hong Kong proper.  His parents were well-to-do and he had a trust fund to supplement his meager income from teaching.  As his parents were well connected and he was gregarious and charming, they were embraced by Hong Kong society.  Their weeks were full of teaching and charity work at the school.  Their weekends were spent either hiking, boating, or attending some social gala.  Their life was enjoyable and fulfilling.

Sydney felt guilty when she thought of David and Father Tim.  What had they been told about her, if anything?  Here were two more wonderful men that fate had dropped in her lap and she had somehow let down.  She hoped that they had at least told them something to help them find closure and move on.  She couldn't bear the thought of them left bereft, with no explanation for her disappearance.  She would ask Kendall and pray that he would take pity on them, if not her.  She had done everything that he had asked her to do so far and would continue to do so as long as he could assure her that all of the men who had done so much for her were at least given some measure of peace.

As guilty as she felt about David and Father Tim, it couldn't even hold a candle to the guilt that she suffered when she thought about Vaughn and her father.  There she had been, living a comfortable life, while her father and the man she loved searched fruitlessly for her, mourned her, and endured the unimaginable in her name.  Now, her father was off on some vengeful odyssey with her mother, his fate unsure, while the only man she would ever truly love was off to start yet another life, one without her.

She dressed warmly for the dreary weather and went downstairs to find the one good man that fate still allowed her, Will Tippin.  Even he hadn't been completely spared.  His friendship with her and his encounters with Alison Doren had left scars both physical and emotional.  The latter took just a little bit longer to see.  He was more guarded now, less spontaneous.  His eyes still sparkled occasionally, but not as brightly and never for too long.

He greeted her warmly as she entered the kitchen and joined him in the breakfast nook.  "Good morning, Syd!  How did you sleep?"

"Okay, how about you?"

"Like a baby now that the lumber mill is back in LA.  I miss him though.  He really helps to lighten this place up", Will said as he took a sip of coffee.

"No kidding", muttered Sydney as she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the perennial chill that seemed to be creeping into her bones.

Will saw her actions and immediately got up to make her a cup of tea.  He was worried about her now that Vaughn was gone.  He was the one that had always been her anchor during this whole mess.  Will had tried to help once he knew what her life was really like, but he always seemed to inadvertently make things worse.  He inwardly cringed remembering his article on SD-6 which had led to Syd and Vaughn's adventures in Taipei, his intel on Eliza Khazabi which had ultimately led to his friend's capture and imprisonment by her ex-husband, and his whole relationship with the double right after he'd become an analyst.  He still berated himself for that.  How could he not have known?  He had known Francie for years and had spent much more time around the double than Sydney had.  Granted, it had been he who had finally figured it out, but only because of the Provacillium, not because of any perceived irregularities in her behavior.  Looking back on it, he could see all of those clearly now.  

Then, there was his crowning glory.  He had been the one to persuade Weiss that they should tell Barnett about Alice in an effort to help Vaughn.  He was still convinced that, on some level, he had done the right thing for Vaughn.  If not for Alice, he may never have come out of it, physically or mentally.  However, his actions had led to a tryst, which had led to a family.  He had actually been pretty proud of that accomplishment, till now.  He had liked to think that Sydney would have been happy knowing that Vaughn had found a way to go on with his life and that he had had a hand in it.  Looking at his friend now though, he couldn't help but think that all he had a hand in was the misery she was experiencing.

He brought her back some tea and asked, "What can I get you for breakfast?"

"What are you, the new short order cook here?"

"Come on, Syd, you need to eat.  You've barely eaten a thing the past couple of days.  I'll make blueberry pancakes…  Morganetti says he froze a bunch of them from this summer.  Apparently they grow wild all over the island."

This brought a smile to her lips.  She had loved blueberry pancakes ever since she was a child.  "Okay then, let me help."

"You're kidding, right?"

She knew that she had never been much of a cook, but even she could make pancakes.  "Come on, I'm not that bad.  Anyway, I remembered yesterday that I've done a lot more cooking in the past couple of years.  It turns out David was even a worse cook than I was.  It was a matter of survival…"

Will smiled with that.  He was happy that everything that she was discovering about the past two years had been relatively pleasant.  When he had first learned she was alive, he could only think of all of the awful things that might have befallen her over that time.  Not that forgetting your entire previous life wasn't horrible, but in her case, it had been a bit of a mixed blessing.

She got up from the table and set about helping him make breakfast.  Morganetti came in when they were almost done.  He was happy that someone else had decided to do KP duty for a change.  "Thanks, guys!  Have you found everything that you need?"

"Yeah, we're great", answered Sydney, "why don't you take a load off and have a cup of coffee."

"Don't mind if I do!"  Morganetti smirked as poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table.  

The three of them were enjoying a pleasant conversation when Kendall strode in, surveying the scene with an arched eye.  "Well, isn't this cozy now.  When the three of you have finished your coffee klatch, we have some work to do, particularly you, Miss Bristow."

Sydney put on her best false smile, remembering that she had a favor to ask concerning her friends in Hong Kong.  "What can I do for you, Sir?" she said trying to sound sincere, but failing miserably.

Kendall decided to overlook her tone.  She had been true to their agreement and had offered no resistance thus far.  Now was the time to find out how strong her new found cooperation was.  "I need you to have another session with Dr. Barnett this morning.  This time I would like you to focus on your friend, David Allerby".

"Why?", Sydney asked, her voice laced with concern.

"Because he and his parents have gone missing from Hong Kong."

Sydney froze, fearing that, once again, someone's attachment to her had somehow destroyed them.  "Do you suspect they've been abducted?"

"No, actually, it appears quite to the contrary.  All of their financial accounts and safety deposit boxes have been emptied.  Their most valuable possessions are gone from their homes.  They were quite thorough.  They apparently wanted to disappear."

This made no sense.  David and his parents had lived in Hong Kong for over thirty years.  They were well known and had ties to the community.  Why would they suddenly leave?  "Are you sure that they weren't threatened or forced in some way?"

"We don't know _anything,_ Agent Bristow.  That is why we need your help.  Perhaps you can remember something that might help us get a lead on them and get to the bottom of this."

Sydney's eyes flashed and she demanded of Kendall, "What about Father Tim?!"

"He appears to be fine.  We've put a watch on Monsignor Shea to make sure that he stays that way.  I'm going to go find Barnett.  Finish your breakfast and we'll get to work."

Sydney spent most of the rest of the day in and out of sessions with Judy Barnett, trying to recall any information that would help in tracking down where David and his family might have gone.  Where did they go on vacation?  On business?  What other family was there?  Had any of them ever mentioned wanting to go to a particular locale?  She was asked to revisit every time she had met with his parents.  Every word was recorded and sent off to be analyzed.

She emerged at the end of the day exhausted, praying that something would be uncovered that would shed some light on the mystery.  She walked into the living room to observe the remains of the day through the large picture windows.  The fog had never really burned off.  Everything was still hazy, but she could make out the faint oranges and reds of the dying day on the horizon.  That's when she noticed them.

Sydney went closer to the window to see agents in body armor and helmets, carrying automatic rifles and guarding the perimeter of the three buildings and the pathway down to the docks.  She decided to head over to the Security and Communications building to find out what was going on.  She went to the door off the kitchen, but found it guarded by yet another agent.

"I'm sorry Agent Bristow, my orders are that you are to stay inside.  Director Kendall will be over shortly to brief you."

"What's going on?"

"I don't know any details, just that this facility may have been compromised.  Please go back inside now."

Sydney was stunned.  She went back into the living room and sat down.  Compromised?  How?  This place, although beautiful, defined the middle of nowhere.  The enclave had been here less than a year.  Jenkins had told her that, aside from a few top level meetings among the heads of the FBI, CIA, NSA, and Homeland Security, the only ones to use this place had been the teams used to debrief her and Vaughn.  Oh God….. Vaughn.  Please God, no.

She sat hugging herself, praying that her fear was unfounded.  She saw Jenkins, Will, and Kendall exit the other building.  Jenkins and Kendall wore a grim stoicism, a resigned air about them.  Will looked over and caught her staring at them through the window.  His expression was one of sorrow.

They entered the house and immediately came over to her.  "Agent Bristow", Kendall began, "it appears that this facility may have been compromised.  We're going to wait for nightfall and then transfer you off of the island to a more secure location."

"What's happened?" Sydney questioned, 

"_I've just told you_," Kendall reiterated. There's been a possible security breach and we're relocating you.  We'll leave in a couple of hours once the arrangements have been finalized and we can leave under cover of darkness."

She looked over at Will and saw the tears that glazed his eyes.  "Will?"

Will went to say something, but was immediately cut off by Kendall.  "Mr. Tippin is not authorized to go into the details, but rest assured what we are doing this for your own protection."

"Why won't you tell me what's going on!  I've cooperated fully!  Just tell me that Vaughn is all right!"

Jenkins and Will's heads immediately snapped to Kendall, eyes wary, waiting for his response.  Kendall faltered, realizing that neither man was going to back him up in a denial.  He decided to tell her the truth.  "I'm afraid I can't do that.  We have reason to believe that he and his wife may have been taken."

"What?!  How?!"   Sydney cried out, subconsciously keening.

Will instinctively moved to sit next to her on the sofa, putting an arm around her to stop her rocking.  He decided not to wait for Kendall's version of the story.  "Syd, he never went to work this morning and neither did the marshal that was protecting them.  We're not exactly sure what happened, but last night a motorist reported stopping for a couple whose car he thought had broken down.  He ID'ed photos of Vaughn and Alice".  

Will paused before continuing, "He was just about to offer them a ride when the shooting began.  He saw Mike get shot.  Then, he sped off to get out of harm's way.  When the police went to check out his story last night, there was nothing where he claimed it took place.  They didn't put together who was involved until this afternoon when the school called to reported them missing.  They found the Jeep about an hour ago in a ravine a couple of miles off the interstate.  The marshal was inside, dead of a gunshot wound.  One of his bosses at Justice in L.A. is also missing."

"Agent Bristow, I'm sorry that you had to hear it this way.  I promise that we'll do everything we can to recover Vaughn and his wife.  Unfortunately, we have no actionable intelligence right now except for the fact that, if Vaughn survived, this place could be compromised.  We need to get you out of here as soon as possible.

Something inside of Sydney snapped.  She lurched off the couch and leapt at Kendall, grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket and shaking him.  "_You Son-of-a-Bitch!" _she screamed._  "You couldn't even keep him safe for three days!  Three fucking days!  What good are you and your promises!"  _

Will and Jenkins pulled Sydney off of Kendall, whose own rage was now barely controlled.  _"Correction, Ms. Bristow!  I wasn't enough of a son-of-a-bitch!  If I had been, he would never have gone back there!  He would have been safe!  I let **him** persuade me to go back and get **his** **wife**!  Now, we all need to move ASAP before anything happens here!"_

Three hours later, under cover of darkness, they made their way down to the dock.  Will helped Sydney who was still a bit out of it.  After her outburst, Kendall had insisted that Dr. Barnett sedate her.  It took several agents to subdue her so that it could be done, but he couldn't afford having her uncooperative right now, especially seeing that he had lost his leverage.

The area had been scanned by surveillance planes and determined free from any unusual activity.  They would continue to survey while the yacht made its way to Decatur Island to a small private airstrip.  They couldn't hazard the long trip back to Whidbey on open water, especially since Vaughn had been familiar with that route.  Everything had to be different now.  

Once on Decatur, a small private prop plane would take them to Whidbey.  That part wouldn't be changed.  Arvin Sloane was no match for the U.S. military, not yet anyway.  Once there, they would transfer to a jet to points unknown.  They were going to bury Sydney Bristow so deep that neither Arvin Sloane nor Irina Derevko would ever find her, at least until they could figure out a new strategy to deal with recent developments.

With the AWAC surveillance planes flying far above and blackhawks and the like on alert if they needed them, it was decided that the yacht should go unescorted.  There was no need to bring unnecessary attention to themselves during the forty-five minute boat ride to Decatur.  They would keep the enclave on high alert, making it look like all the key players were still there.  The only ones on the yacht would be Jenkins, Kendall, Will Tippin, and Sydney, along with a contingent of five fully armed agents in combat gear.

After Will got Sydney settled in the cabin, he went up to the bridge to check in with Jenkins and Kendall.  They were getting a report over the radio from Whidbey that the airspace was clear and that boat traffic was light.  The only thing in the vicinity appeared to be an Orca with her calf.  

Jenkins chuckled, "She's been trawling around here all week.  She actually came up to the boat four or five days ago.  Thanks for the heads up.  I know what they look like on sonar, so I'll be advised and watch out for them."  With that he signed off.

"Whales?", said Will incredulously, "Where?"

"What is it with you city people?  They're deer with fins around here!", Jenkins said, shaking his head.

"Enough with the chit-chat.  Mr. Tippin, please go down below and keep an eye on Agent Bristow.  That is your job this evening, you know", Kendall let go with an exasperated tone.

Will left the bridge and headed back towards the main cabin.  He scanned the darkness searching for a sign of the Orca and her calf to no avail.  He saw nothing and the only the thing he could hear was the low rumble of the ship's engine.  Looking around before heading into the cabin, he noted the guards posted on the foredeck and astern, port and starboard.  The fifth agent was up on the bridge with Kendall and Jenkins.

When he returned to the cabin, Sydney seemed to be more alert and was pacing about.  Her eyes were red-rimmed from the periodic crying jags that had assailed her since she'd gotten the news.  Will immediately went over to embrace her.

"Hey sweetie, hang in there.  We don't know anything for sure yet.  Can I get you some tea or something?"

"No thanks", she managed to eke out.  

Will went over and got himself a cup of coffee.  It was going to be a long night.  Kendall hadn't even told him where they were going.  For all he knew, this time tomorrow they'd be in Istanbul.  After filling his cup, he motioned to Sydney to join him on the couch.  She was going to pace a hole in the carpet at the rate she was going.

Once they were seated, Sydney leaned into him.  He put his arm around her and she put her head on his shoulder.  He could tell that she had started to cry again by her ragged breathing.  He stroked her arm, whispering into her hair, "It's okay, Honey, it's just me.  Let it out. Just let it out."  

They continued that way for what must have been about fifteen minutes before Sydney noticed that the ship had slowed markedly.  "Something's going on", she said as she sat up and wiped her eyes.

"What do you mean, Syd?"

"The ship has slowed down", she declared as she rose from the couch.

"It's okay, Syd.  They're checking in with Whidbey every couple of minutes up there.  It's probably just the whales that I heard Jenkins talking about on the radio a little while ago, a mother and her calf.  He said that they've been around all week.  They were the only things in the area."

Sydney smiled wistfully, remembering having seen them earlier when she was with Vaughn.  "I'm going to go out on deck to see if I can see anything.  It would be nice to see them one more time."

"I don't think you're going to see anything. It's pitch black out there.  I've already tried, but I'll go back out there with you if you want."

"No, that's all right.  I'd rather be by myself if you don't mind.  Anyway, the militia's out there if I get into any trouble."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah.  You stay in here and keep warm."

She headed out on deck.  Will was right.  It was pitch dark.  The boat was running with a minimum number of lights and all the drapes had been drawn in the main cabin so that they would be as inconspicuous as possible.  She could barely see her hand in front of her face after emerging from the lit cabin.  She headed aft towards the back railing, tripped over something, and went sprawling on the deck.  She looked over to see the motionless form of one of the guards lying next to her.  The rifle was still slung over his shoulder and the night goggles were still on his face.

Sydney quickly pulled his goggles off and donned them.  She scanned the area around her.  Then, she grabbed both his rifle and his sidearm, which was still in his leg holster.  She looked around and quickly headed back to the cabin.  Once inside, she pulled off the goggles, so as not to be blinded by the lights, and spoke to Will in hushed tones.  

"We're under attack!  Take this gun and find yourself a good hiding place with a view of the doors."  "I'm going to take these and head for the radio up on the bridge," she declared holding up the rifle and goggles.

"I should go with you."

"No!", Sydney commanded.  "You're not trained for this and I have only one pair of goggles!  It's me that they're after.  I don't want to lose anybody else!  Please stay here.  I'll come back as soon as possible."

He nodded his assent.  He knew it would be futile arguing with her.  Plus, two year sabbatical or not, he realized she was right.  If anyone was going to get them out of this, it was going to be her.

Sydney replaced the goggles and headed out the door.  She stole quietly along the starboard side of the boat and came across the guard who had been stationed there.  She pulled his sidearm out of its holster and stuck it in the waistband of her jeans.  She continued around the deck and found the two remaining guards.  That meant whoever did this was likely up on the bridge right now.  

She was just about to start climbing the stairs to the bridge when she heard a noise at the rear of the boat.  It looked as though a couple of zodiacs had pulled up along side the boat.  This took her by surprise as she hadn't heard any outboard.  She saw someone climbing onto the boat using the ladder on the stern.  She crept closer to get a better view.  It was a large man dressed darkly wearing a balaclava. He too was wearing night vision goggles.  She raised the rifle and was about to pull the trigger when she heard a familiar voice call from above.

_"No, Sydney!  Don't!"_

She wheeled around to see someone at the top of the stairs dressed in a wet suit.  He too was wearing night vision goggles and was holding what appeared to be a tranquilizer gun.

"It's all right, Sydney.  Put down the rifle.  It's me."

Sydney couldn't believe her ears.  It wasn't possible.  However, she also couldn't bring herself to fire the gun.  He saw her hesitation and dropped his tranquilizer gun.  He put his hands in the air and was just reaching up to pull off his goggles when Sydney crumpled to the ground.

_"Jack, why the hell did you do that!"_

_"I thought that would have been obvious!  To prevent her from shooting you, you idiot!  _What were you thinking? Why didn't you tranque her?"

_"You know, Jack, I'm really beginning to think you have a problem"_, Vaughn bit out as he descended the stairs.  "She wasn't going to shoot!  She knew it was me!  I should have let her shoot you!"

"We don't have time for this right now!  We can fight about it once we get to the ship.  Grab her legs and let's go!"  Jack Bristow holstered his weapon and bent over to grab his unconscious daughter beneath the shoulders.  Vaughn grabbed her legs and they headed to the rear of the boat.

They were just about to lift her over the back of the boat down to others who were waiting in the zodiacs when they heard Will Tippin call out, "Drop her.  Drop her and put your hands up or I'll shoot."

They gently put Sydney down and put their hands up.  Jack chided Vaughn, "Go on now, Vaughn.  Here's your chance.  Talk your way out of _this_ one."

_"Jack?  Vaughn?"_, Will uttered disbelievingly.

"Yeah, Will, it's us.  Please put the gun down," Vaughn requested, slowly pulling off his goggles and peeling back the hood off his wet suit.  He motioned to Jack to do the same.

"I don't understand", Will said shaking his head, but refusing to lower his weapon just yet.  "We heard that you were abducted by Sloane.  They killed a US marshal and one of his superiors is missing."

Jack jumped in, "They were the ones abducting Vaughn, Tippin.  They were moles.  I found out what was happening and intervened.  I killed the marshal.  We'll explain the rest later, but we have to get out of here _now, _before anyone at Whidbey realizes anything's amiss".

"Vaughn?" Will repeated finally lowering the gun, "Why this?"

"I know it seems _insane_, Will, but we have to do this", Vaughn implored.  "You know as well as I do that they were going to lock her away somewhere until they sorted all of this out.  That could take years!  We weren't going to let that happen.  There's so much that she and JTF don't know, that I didn't know, until last night; things that the JTF would be unwilling to accept.  They would have ended up using her as a pawn between Sloane and Derevko.  I don't know for sure what her role is, but I _do_ know that I want it to be _her_ choice once she's fully informed.  But Jack's right, we have to hurry, you have to let us go _now._  Let me take you back to the cabin and tranque you.  Nobody will be the wiser."

"We can't leave him here!  He _knows_ too much already!  He has to come with us!"

"_Jack, there's no need to drag anybody else into this!_  If I take him back and tranque him, they'll just think he got caught off guard like everyone else.  I trust him."

Jack turned a wary eye toward Will Tippin.  "So what will it be, Mr. Tippin?  In for a penny or in for a pound?"


	10. A Family Reunion

**A/N:FYI, This may be the last chapter of this fic that I post here.Cover Me should be back up soon and posting here can be time**

**consuming, especially when the site is glitching out.Now, they're making me change my penname.So, if anyone wants me to keep**

**posting here as opposed to visiting SD-1.com or Cover Me, please speak now or forever hold your peace…..(I'll have to admit that**

5 reviews for ten chapters worth of work may also be affecting my decision.…)

Part 10   –   A Family Reunion

Sydney woke up several hours later in what appeared to be the captain's quarters of some sort of ship.  Daylight was pouring through the portholes.  She was a bit nauseous and the rocking of the boat was making it worse.  Will Tippin was sitting beside the bed.  Looking over at him, the events of the previous night came flooding back to her.

She was frantic.  "Will!  Are you OK? "

"I'm fine, Syd," Will answered.  "You need to take it easy though," he said as he encouraged her to lie back down.  "Your Dad hit you with a tranque dart.  I think he's a little worried though.  He didn't realize that you'd already been sedated.  You've been out for a while."

"My Dad's here?!  Where?" She sat up again, this time with Will's help.

"I don't know exactly, but I'm pretty sure he and Vaughn are off screaming at each other.  Vaughn's pretty pissed at your Dad."

"It _was_ Vaughn I saw!"  This time Sydney nearly leapt off the bed.

"Yeah.  He's fine, Syd.  Sloane did try to abduct them, but your Dad intervened.  The marshal was a mole.  Vaughn and your Dad are the ones who raided the boat."

"I don't understand.  Why would _they_ raid the boat?"  Sydney sat back down, confused.

"They realized that, after what happened to Vaughn, Kendall would immediately move you from the island and most likely keep you a virtual prisoner while he hid you from Sloane and your mother; that plus the fact that the other guy missing from Justice was a mole too.  They didn't know if there were any others with JTF connections."

"What about the others on the boat?"

"They should be OK.  Vaughn just tranqued them.  Although I don't think Kendall will be waking up and sitting down any time soon," Will snickered.

"Why?"

Will tried to stifle a laugh.  "Because Vaughn nailed him four times in the ass."

"Oh My God…," said Sydney stunned.  She knew six would have been lethal.

"Yeah, I'm thinking that Mike's looking at a little anger management after this is all over…"

Sydney shook her head, still a bit confused.  "How did they pull it off?  Where are we?"

"Believe it or note, they used Zodiacs.  Vaughn told them to tie a bunch together and fill them with some kind of special foam so that they'd look like whales to the sonar and the other surveillance.  They used chemical propulsion canisters so that they couldn't be heard.  When they got close, Vaughn used the same type of canisters to swim over.  Then, he climbed aboard, tranqued everybody and got you and me."

"After we left the yacht, the Zodiacs took us to a speed boat which took us to a seaplane which took us here."  He paused for a moment to shake his head in disbelief before continuing, "Here, I think, is some kind of fishing trawler out in the Pacific.  Thank God for GPS."

"Why did they take you?"

"They gave me a choice.  They didn't realize that I was going to be there.  I came up on them as they were trying to load you in one of the rafts.  They explained as best they could and then gave me a choice – get tranqued with the others and cover for them, or come along.  I _really_ didn't want to be there when Kendall woke up, so here I am."

Just then, Vaughn entered the cabin.  Sydney jumped up off the bed and ran to him.  As they held each other, she uttered, "Thank God you're okay".

"The feeling is mutual", he whispered into her hair as he kissed it.  "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine.  Where's my Dad?"

"He'll be along in a couple of minutes.  He said that he had to go talk with someone on the bridge."

Then, something occurred to Sydney.  Remembering that Vaughn was no longer truly hers, she asked uneasily, "Where's Alice, is she all right?"

Vaughn pulled back at his wife's name, the betrayal still fresh in his mind.    Looking down, he said, "She's fine.  We've got her holed up in Vancouver right now."

"Vaughn, what's wrong?"  _Besides the obvious_, she thought to herself.

"It's complicated."

"You should tell her, Vaughn.  Better it should come from you than Jack," Will interjected.  With that, he headed out to give them some time alone.

"Tell me what?"

Vaughn shook his head and sat down on the bed.  Sydney sat down beside him, eyeing him with concern.  He finally spoke, eyes cast downward, his voice barely audible, "The baby isn't mine."

Sydney sat there astonished.  "What?  Whose is it then?"  Given the limited size of the enclave, she felt the list of suspects was small.

"That's a very good question," he bit out.  "_Unfortunately_, it would involve asking _your mother_."

"Excuse me?" gasped Sydney, stupefied.

He continued, unable to contain his bitterness, "Pretending to be a _CIA agent_, she convinced Alice to seduce me and then get implanted, with God knows whose embryo, so that I would go into protection instead of joining your father.  Alice thought she was doing it to keep me safe.  Your mother did it to keep her secret safe."

"What secret?" asked Sydney, now completely bewildered.

Vaughn looked up and met her gaze.  "You."

Sydney was stunned.  "What?!  I don't remember anything about my mother being in Hong Kong.  What are you talking about?"

Just then, Jack entered the cabin with Will and Sydney got up to embrace her father.  "Dad!"

"I've been waiting almost two years for this," Jack whispered as he clutched his child to his chest.

"Dad, I'm so sorry for what I must have put you through," Sydney started while still hugging her father.  "I still can't believe everything that's happened."

"Sshh, it's all right, sweetheart.  The important thing is that we're all together now."

"I have so many questions…  How did you know where Vaughn was?  He said Mom knew about me being alive.  How?  How long have you known?"

Jack sighed heavily, still holding his daughter tightly.  "I know you have a lot of questions, Sydney, but they'd best be answered by your mother.  She's the only one who knows the full story."

They heard her before they saw her. She was talking with Marco. Jack looked up from his embrace with Sydney to check on Vaughn.  He could see the younger man freeze at the sound of the overheard conversation coming down the hallway.  He let go of his daughter to turn towards him.  Vaughn, however, had already started towards the door.  Jack found himself having to chase the younger man down, tackling him at Irina's feet.

_"Get off of me, Jack!  Why the hell didn't you tell me she was going to be here?"_

Jack refused, pinning him down with a knee in his back and leaning over him with his hands on his upper arms.  _"Would you have helped me to get Sydney if I had?   Sydney is going to have questions that only Irina can answer before she makes her decision.   We also still need her to help us get Sloane_.  _I swear, after that, I may even hold her down for you!"_

"Vaughn", Irina purred, "I'm surprised at you.  I always thought that you were such a gentleman…"

_"I stopped thinking about you in those terms a long time ago!"  _He sniped as he struggled to get Jack off his back.

Irina looked over at her daughter, who was watching the scene play out before her in abject horror.   "Let him up, Jack," Irina commanded, unperturbed.  She continued as Vaughn pulled himself up off the floor, "I would have thought you would be a little more… _grateful_.  After all, I busted my _ass_ getting you back from Sloane."

_"You and he aren't so far apart in my world right now,"_ countered Vaughn as Jack stepped between them and grabbed Vaughn's arms again to prevent him from getting any closer to the source of his rage.

Irina nodded, considering his words, then started again in a quieter voice, "Perhaps, but before you judge me, ask yourself something - If Sloane hadn't found you and you didn't know about Alice, would you have been so terribly unhappy?  You had a new life, a pleasant one, with a family.  It was the best that I could do for you, given the circumstances."

"Circumstances that _you_ created!" Vaughn spat back.

"Enabled perhaps, but I didn't create them.  Sydney did, or rather I should say Suzanne did."  Irina paused for a moment before continuing, "She was safe from all of this Vaughn!  You should be able to appreciate that now.  Do you really think that you could have left her that way – safe, content even, in the arms of another man?"

Vaughn hated that she was right.  He hated her, period.  He couldn't concede the point.  Slowly, he stated, "You had _no_ _right_.  She deserved to know _the truth_."

Irina paused momentarily, reflecting.  Then, while locking her gaze with Vaughn's, she replied deliberately, "That's the problem with you and Sydney.  You value truth and honesty a little too highly.  It mars your instinct for survival."

_"ENOUGH!"_, screamed Sydney, causing everyone in the room to shift their focus.  "_Would someone_ please tell me what the hell is going on?  It seems _everyone _here knows _except me_!"

After a stunned silence, Irina was the first to speak, "So it's true.  You barely remember a thing about the past two years?"

Sydney hesitated, steeling herself for the conversation she knew must take place.  Observing her mother through narrowed eyes, she replied, "Yes, but from what I hear, you remember plenty.  Care to share?"

"Marco", Irina commanded, "could you please escort Mr. Tippin to his quarters."  Then, she turned to Will and stated calmly, "I hope you don't mind, but this is _family business."_

Will cast an eye towards Vaughn and Irina caught the gesture.  She justified while looking straight at Vaughn, "Special dispensation.  Vaughn gets to stay if he promises to behave himself and sit quietly".  

Vaughn was still seething, but knew that he had to stay to hear whatever Derevko was going to tell Sydney.  Eyeing Irina suspiciously, he begrudgingly nodded, pulled away from Jack, and headed over to sit down on the bed.  Sydney immediately went over and joined him, grasping his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze to silently acknowledge how difficult the situation must be for him given recent events.  They gave each other a small smile and kept their hands clasped, fingers intertwined.  Irina noted how quickly they had re-established their solidarity and knew that she was going to have to answer for everything right now.

As Will and Marco left, Irina pulled up a chair and motioned for Jack to do the same.  This was going to take a while.  Then, she turned back to Sydney and asked, "Where should I begin?"

"How about when you found me?  Why didn't you tell me who I was and help me get home?"

Irina turned to Jack, exasperated, "You really have told her absolutely nothing, have you?"

Jack retorted, "There wasn't a chance.  I told you up on the bridge less than a half hour ago that she wasn't even awake yet.  I told Vaughn most of the story last night, but you're just going to have to tell Sydney the whole thing yourself.  Why don't you start from the beginning, when your little friend ran amok?"

"_Jack,_ you know as well as I do that I had nothing to do with Doren's placement.  It happened while I was in custody.  Sloane and Sark put her there.  I couldn't pull her without raising their suspicions as to my motives before that night.  Once Sark was in custody and Sloane knew that I had already betrayed him, I _immediately_ went to LA to pull her from the field.  After Mexico City, I knew I had to get her out of there quickly before she heard about Sark's incarceration or Sloane gave her conflicting orders."

Irina paused and turned towards Sydney.  "I came as fast as I could to pull Allison, but everything had gone to hell by the time I got there.  She wasn't answering her cell and I went to stake out your apartment, waiting for an opportunity to signal her somehow.  However, what I witnessed changed everything."

_Irina was across the street from Sydney's apartment in her car.  She had only been there a minute or two when suddenly she saw Sydney and Alison come crashing through one set of French doors out onto the patio.  This was followed within seconds by them crashing back into the apartment through another set.  Irina immediately equipped herself and headed toward the apartment.  When she got there, she entered through one of the smashed bedroom doors and found Allison dead.  She searched the rest of the apartment and found Will Tippin in the bathroom, but not Sydney._

_She then ran to the living room and saw that the front door was open.  She noted a blood trail on the floor and followed it to see Sydney getting into her truck and driving off.  She ran as fast as she could to her car and followed.  Sydney drove for about a half an hour up into the hills north of LA near the ocean, the Pacific Pallisades.  She pulled into a small parking area for an overlook and got out of the truck.  Irina got out of her car and followed Sydney as she stumbled towards the cliffs.  When she caught up with her, Sydney was just standing there, staring out at the water.  _

_The moon was fairly bright and Irina could see for the first time how badly Sydney had been injured.  She approached her daughter and gently called her name, but Sydney didn't respond.  She just stood there motionless.  Irina grabbed her daughter's arm, afraid of her intentions, but Sydney tried to pull away.  _

_Irina called her by name once again and begged Sydney to come with her so that she could get medical attention.  Sydney refused, pulling her arm from her mother's grasp, and told her to leave her alone, that she had no idea who Irina was and that her name was Suzanne, not Sydney.  Irina didn't know what was going on, but wasn't going to leave her daughter there in that condition.  She asked her daughter one more time to come with her so that she could get her to a doctor.  Sydney refused once again and Irina shot her with a tranquilizer gun._

"And then you kidnapped me?", Sydney cried.

"It's not that simple, little girl", Irina rejoined.  "I didn't know where Sloane was, but I knew that the JTF had failed to retrieve Il Dire in Mexico City.  I also knew what it was supposed to be capable of.  He showed me the manuscript which he had retrieved from Tibet.  When I saw what it would purportedly do, that's when I decided to contact you and give you the location of the artifacts before he could assemble the device."

"As I was the only one besides Sloane who knew the true power of Il Dire, I decided to perpetrate a fraud to keep you safe until you could recover.  If anyone other than I knew where you were, Sloane could discover your location by using Il Dire on them.  I needed to protect you.  I staged the scene to fake your suicide.    Then, I carried you to my car, making sure that I left no trail."

_Irina called some old contacts who were in the LA area, currently affiliated with the Russian mob.  They helped her to get medical care for Sydney and smuggle her out of the country.  They originally went to a private hospital in Mexico for Sydney's convalescence, but it became apparent as soon as Sydney was awake that it was not going to be straightforward._

_Irina had planned on telling Sydney everything when she awoke – what Il Dire actually was and why she thought that Sydney had to be Rambaldi's Prophecy Woman.  However, Sydney still contended that she was some woman named Suzanne.  Irina brought in experts and explained the situation in sanitized terms.  They claimed that she appeared to be suffering from something called a psychogenic fugue.  They told her that it could last anywhere from a few days to a few months.  Irina decided to indulge it so that Sydney/Suzanne could recover peacefully.  Irina knew that, as soon as Sydney was herself again, she would likely try to contact Vaughn and her father._

_Suzanne claimed that she had come home in the midst of a home invasion and that her two best friends were already dead.  She had been injured by the fleeing attacker.  She wanted nothing to do with LA anymore.  She said that her family, friends, and fiancé were dead and that she just wanted to start over.  She didn't even realize that she wasn't in the US anymore._

_Irina brought Suzanne travel magazines that featured cities where she either had operations or significant contacts.  To her delight, she picked Hong Kong.  It was a city where Irina had both.  It was a marvelous place to 'disappear'.  Irina arranged for all of the paperwork for Sydney's new identity and flew her there in a private jet.  She even arranged a job interview for Suzanne at St. Bartholomew's.  One of her financial advisers was on the board there and was happy to introduce Suzanne to Monsignor O'Shea.  After meeting with her, he offered her a job on the spot._

Irina concluded, "Your father told me that Mr. Tippin has informed him that you now remember some things about your life in Hong Kong.  Should I continue?"

Sydney was feeling a bit overwhelmed by what she had just heard.  As her mother had explained things, she had started getting flashbacks and knew what her mother was telling her was indeed true.  However, she still needed a few more gaps filled in.  "You said that your experts told you that I should be fine in a few months.  That's the same thing that the CIA doctors said.  You did nothing to prolong my condition?"

Irina shifted uncomfortably in her seat before answering.  "After several months, I actually tried to break you out of it to see whether or not you had permanently split with your old personality.  The experts had raised that as a possibility.  Although I had left Hong Kong to make sure that Sloane couldn't trace me to you, I had my people there keep an eye on you.  One of my contacts had a son who bore an uncanny resemblance to your fiancé.  He had been itching to join my organization so I gave him the opportunity.  I gave him the dossier that I had compiled on Danny while you were dating."

She looked over at the shocked expression on her daughter's face, but before Sydney could say a word she continued, "I may have been an absentee mother, but I can assure you that I was well aware of every major event in your life, including every serious boyfriend you ever had."

She continued with her story.  "David joined the teaching staff at St. Bartholomew's.  He was just supposed to get to know you and spend time with you while acting as much as he could like Danny.  I wanted to see if we could jog memories of your former life and break you out of the fugue.  The whole exercise had unintended consequences for the both of you."

"What do you mean?" Sydney managed, still in shock.

"I mean that you fell in love with him and he you.  After several months, he came to me and told me that he no longer wanted to be part of my organization.  He was going to permanently join the staff at St. Bartholomew's and ask you to marry him.  I was speechless.  The exercise had failed and I believed that you were never going to recover.  I had had the two of you followed and my operatives claimed that you appeared to be truly in love with him.  I gave him my permission to ask you to marry him.  I felt that, even if you never recovered, at least I would have someone close to you who would protect you and alert me if anything ever happened.  I decided that I must have been wrong about you being the Prophecy Woman and determined that I was going to do everything in my power to give you the safe and happy life that you should have had from the start.  Perhaps Sydney couldn't have that life, but it looked as though Suzanne could."    

Sydney looked over at her mother, not knowing what to say.  She then looked to Vaughn who was sitting next to her, staring intently at the floor at his feet with his jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck clearly visible.  She understood now why her mother had done what she did with Alice, however misguided, but it in no way justified her actions.  She was at a loss, though, for how to respond to it.  So, she decided to ask the last question she had for her mother right now.  "Why were you convinced that I was the Prophecy Woman and not you?"

Irina looked to Jack, looking for support.  Jack decided to answer the question for her.  "Before you disappeared, when Sloane and your mother stole the artifacts from NSA, they got a hold of Page 47.  Your mother and Sloane immediately realized that it was either you or her.  They ran the physical tests on your mother to confirm it.  She matched, but they also realized that you probably would too.  They also read the part about Mount Subasio."  

"Right before your mother came to visit you in LA to tell you where to find the artifacts, she climbed Mount Subasio.  She actually stayed several days in Assisi to make sure she ascended every path to the summit, saw the sky from every angle.  I didn't believe her when she first told me three months ago and I made her do it again.  I had told her that you too had climbed Subasio.  I had come to believe that Sloane was the Greatest Power, so I was discouraged to think that we would be unable to bring him down.  That's when she told me that you were alive, but not quite yourself…"

Vaughn finally spoke, "Jack, how is this possible?  How could both of them have climbed it?" 

"After Irina had tried to break Sydney out of her new personality and failed, she went back to Rambaldi's manuscript concerning the Prophecy, which she had stolen from Sloane, trying to see if there wasn't some way that _she_ might truly be the Prophecy Woman.  Irina was able to determine through carbon dating and by dates referred to on previous and following pages of the manuscript that it was most likely written in the winter of 1472.  At that time, one of the great comets, Regiomontanus, was visible across Europe for six weeks."

Jack paused before continuing, "The exact wording of the Prophecy says_, "never having seen the beauty of my sky behind Mount Subasio"._  She consulted with several astronomers who concurred that, when looking at the mountain from Rambaldi's home, the comet would have indeed been in the sky _behind_ Subasio.  Neither you nor your mother has seen the sky he spoke of.  The next sighting won't be for almost thirty years and, even then, it won't line up like that again.  We've checked as many comets as we could to see if any would line up like that again in the near future, but with no luck.  I'm afraid that line of the Prophecy is just Rambaldi's way of saying the Prophecy woman can't avoid her fate."

Irina went over and took her daughter by the hands.  She articulated her next words carefully, "I have given everything I could over the past two years to try and stop Sloane.  I may have stagnated and annoyed him, but nothing I have done has brought an end to this.  I don't know for sure that you're the Prophecy Woman, but I do know that, if we join forces and both go after Sloane, the Prophecy Woman has a chance of ending this.  We can pursue the Prophecy or wait until it finds us. I'll leave the choice to you.  Why don't you take some time and talk it over with Vaughn."

They were all silent for a few moments pondering Irina's words.  Then, Vaughn looked over at Jack.  "Jack, what are your thoughts about all of this?  How do you see this ending?"

Jack shook his head.  "I really don't know.  I stopped asking myself that question years ago.  I'm not a religious man, but I do believe in Fate.  If we bring all of the elements together, perhaps the path will become obvious."

With that Jack and Irina got up to leave.  However, Vaughn got up and pulled Irina aside.  Jack advanced, but Irina waved him away.  When they were comfortably out of earshot, he hissed in her ear, "Before Sydney and I talk about anything, you and I need to come to a little understanding.  You and I have _unfinished business._  However, should she and I decide to stay and go after Sloane with you now, we won't be able to deal with that right away.  Until we can, you will make sure that Alice is kept comfortable and out of harm's way."

"And why exactly should I do that?", Irina returned.  "I didn't force her to do anything.  She's a big girl.  She knew what she was doing."

"Because Sydney only knows part of the truth.  She only knows that the child isn't mine.  As for the other part, how you got my _cooperation_, I personally don't relish the thought of telling her.  I'll keep her blissfully ignorant and tell Jack to do the same unless you let something happen to Alice.  Do we understand each other?"

Irina cast an icy glare towards Vaughn.  She was not in the habit of being blackmailed.  However, her eyes soon warmed and a small smile crept onto her lips.  "I take back what I said before, Vaughn.  You're learning.  You may survive this yet."  

Vaughn glowered at her, letting her know that he didn't appreciate her sense of humor.

The two held each other's stare for a few moments longer until they both felt comfortable that an understanding had been reached.  Then, Vaughn finally relented and let go of Irina's arm.  She rejoined Jack and they left the cabin.

"What was that all about?", Sydney asked as she reached for his arm and led him to sit down on the bed.

"I just needed to have a little chat with your mother before we discussed things."

"About what?"

Vaughn peered into her eyes which were full of concern and chose his next words carefully.  "About making sure Alice stays safe while we sort all of this out.  It could take weeks or it could take years.  I needed some assurance from her that Alice would be protected as she's the one responsible for the predicament Alice is in."

Sydney looked down at the floor and shook her head, "You're a lot more forgiving person than I am."

"Listen Sydney, I may not owe Alice the rest of my life, but I have an obligation to her.  She knows that I wasn't going to stay in a marriage based on a lie, especially this one, but I owe it to her to get her out of this safely.  None of this would have happened to her if she weren't trying to help me.  Can you understand that?"

Sydney nodded begrudgingly, "Of course, I do.  Nobody understands that concept better than I do, but you're actually going to trust my mother?  After everything?"

Vaughn exhaled sharply.  "I don't see as I really have any choice in the matter.  I just wanted to make sure she knew where I stood on the subject."

"You know that you don't have to do this, be involved with this.  What you said about Alice…  That goes for you, too.  I just want you to be safe and away from all this," she said as she reached up to caress his cheek and stared into his eyes.  "I want to be free of all of this, but I think that it's obvious that it's just not possible."

Vaughn took her hand from his cheek and kissed it and then brought it to his lap, intertwining her fingers with his.  Looking down at their hands, he spoke softly, "Neither one of us is going to be free from this until Sloane's gone.  Now that he knows something's up and that I'm involved, he's not going to stop until he finds out what it is.  Our choice really is whether to wait until he comes and finds us or go after him ourselves.  I don't know about you, but I don't feel like spending the rest of my life trying to hide from him.  I've tried it and that strategy hasn't exactly proven successful.  The one advantage we still have is that he doesn't know you're alive."  

He paused and looked directly into Sydney's eyes, "It's time to force Fate's hand."

  



End file.
